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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651374">Into the Fold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars'>legendofthesevenstars</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Friendship, Gambling, Gen, Illustrations, Minor Injuries, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Movie, Psychic Abilities</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:08:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofthesevenstars/pseuds/legendofthesevenstars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Van's brother Dune destroys their country, leaving Van the sole survivor. He arrives as a refugee in the mountain village of Adom, where he meets another orphan, Merle. After training under the tutelage of Ruhm, he sets out to find Dune, now Folken, the head of the Black Dragon Clan, a villainous military force plaguing all of Gaea. Along the way, he runs in with the Abaharaki, a resistance group led by the absolutely insufferable, and insufferably sincere, Allen.</p>
<p>He never plans on coming out of his shell - or becoming a part of their family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Van Fanel &amp; Abaharaki, Van Fanel &amp; Allen Schezar, Van Fanel &amp; Merle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/labeckinator/gifts">labeckinator</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've wanted to write a fic specifically about Van &amp; Allen friendship for a while, and the Escaflowne movie (which I've never written for before!) gave me new inspiration to explore it. (Mind the violence warning - the violence here is more on the level of the movie.)</p>
<p>This is my half of an exchange with my friend <a href="https://twitter.com/labeckinator">labeckinator</a>, who also wanted to create some art for the movie. I'm so excited to collaborate with her again! Look forward to her piece - you can find her under the same username on tumblr and dA!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Van was very young, Mother told him that the greatest threats to dragons like them lived outside the mountains. That long ago, the humans, fearing the dragons’ wings and telekinetic powers, had driven them into isolation. Their ancestors never could have known that the greatest threat to their clan would one day lie inside it. Even the oracle, the mysterious pink crystal around which the castle had been built, couldn’t have predicted Dune laying waste to his homeland.</p><p>Van was five and his older brother Dune was fifteen when the oracle of Syllandria made its prediction: the younger prince would ascend the throne and lead the kingdom of mountain villages into a bright future. Two years later, Dune burned the villages to the ground, massacred their clan, and killed his own parents. The oracle that he had so resented lay shattered in rosy shards on the floor of the castle. He had always told Van he’d make the oracle rethink its choice. But even with the way he had acted since the proclamation, Van had never anticipated something like this.</p><p>Van wanted to believe what had happened was Dune’s fault alone, but his stomach curled up whenever he remembered how he had changed after the oracle’s prediction. Gone was the brother who had played knight and prince with him, taken him on horse rides, and taught him how to fly. Dune started to sneer at him, spit at the sight of him, shove him, and yank on his wings. Whenever Mother and Father were around, he acted innocent, and if they caught him, he told them he and Van were just “playing rough.”</p><p>Father never believed anything Van said about Dune’s behavior, scolding him that <em>Syllandria’s future king should not make such baseless accusations against his own kin</em>. Mother listened, but since Father wouldn’t believe either of them, there was no way to change Dune. Mother had always told Van that he hadn’t done anything wrong, that the oracle would have made the same choice no matter what. She would tell him that he couldn’t have stopped Dune, that he shouldn’t blame himself.</p><p>Far too young for his telekinetic powers to awaken and too weak to lift a sword, he’d been powerless to fight back. Dune hadn’t spared anyone or anything, killing men, women, elders, children, and his own parents alike. Hours after the tragedy, Van still saw afterimages of Father’s gaping maw as Dune held his severed head by the hair, Mother’s wings clipped and her body limp on the ground in a pool of blood, the village and the castle in flames. He felt the orange heat licking at his feet and heard Dune laughing bitterly with that vile sneer. Haunted by the destruction he’d witnessed, Van ran down into the valley and into the village of Adom, where the beastpeople lived.</p><p>Once he arrived and settled in, the kids his age hounded him with questions. When he didn’t answer anything, they questioned if he was <em>dumb or something</em>, and he shouted at them to <em>leave me alone</em>. At mealtimes, the old couple who looked after him served him a bowl of food same as everyone who lived with them, but he remained silent whenever anyone tried to talk to him. They hadn’t meant anything bad by asking all those questions. He just wished he could go home, though he knew he couldn’t.</p><p>If only he could hold Mother’s hand again, cry into her sleeve after Dune hit him or pulled on his feathers. But he was nearly eight now, closer to ten than five, only ten years away from eighteen. Father had told him to start acting his age, which meant acting older than his age. He had expected to inherit the throne in ten years. On his own eighteenth birthday, Dune had made sure no one would ever inherit the throne.</p><p>Van could hardly sleep, especially because he had no idea where Dune had gone or if he was still alive. He had said he was going to strike back at the world that had taken his destiny away from him. He was determined to prove the oracle wrong. But Mother and Father had insisted the oracle was <em>never </em>wrong. Why would Dune kill Mother and Father, when it wasn’t their fault? Why had he done what he had done?</p><p>Dune had always hated him. The last thing Dune had said still rang in his ears.</p><p><em>I wish you had never been born</em>.</p><p>Without Mother and Father, without all the other dragons who had loved and welcomed him, without the thin mountain air and the safe stone walls of the castle he’d called home, Van was starting to wish the same for himself. Anything to avoid being alone.</p><p>There was a gentle river that flowed slowly through Adom. The clear water calmed Van, soothed the trembling that came from his nightmares. Dragonflies flitted above the water, skaters making ripples on its surface. It was warm in the valley, warmer than in the mountains. Nobody had to keep a fire going, at least not during the warm season. He wasn’t sure if he would still be here in Adom once the seasons changed. He had no idea if Dune would find him, or if Dune was even looking for him.</p><p>Usually, no one else was awake when the crickets sang, but one night, Van was surprised to see a small figure downriver. The night had darkened, but in the faint light of the moon and stars, he could make out the outline of a skirt that came to the figure’s knees, and a tail flicking beneath it. Watching the other person warily, he leaned down to swish his hand in the dark water, lifting it and looking at the tiny bugs that curled up in his hand next to little bits of grass and dirt. He glanced up at the person again, who was now beginning to approach him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, but he didn’t run away. It had to be another child, and someone else awake at this time must be lonely, too.</p><p>The girl slowly came into view. She was a cat, with long pink hair tied back at the nape of her neck, brown, striped fur, and large pointy ears. Most of the villagers were wolves and other mountain-dwelling beasts; Van had never seen a cat before. Her bright blue eyes had a lively gleam. Pouting and furrowing her brow, she walked right up to him, her eyes wandering his face. He backed away, clenching his trembling hands into fists.</p><p>“So you’re the quiet one,” she said.</p><p>He nodded. He couldn’t really deny that.</p><p>“Duh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I heard you haven’t even told anyone your name.” When Van said nothing, she continued, “Well, if you can talk, then tell me how a human kid ends up here. Humans don’t live in the mountains.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Should he tell this girl he wasn’t human? Beasts and dragons had lived alongside each other in Syllandria. But she hadn’t lived there. Maybe she would be afraid of dragons, just like Mother had always said humans were. It was probably better just to answer her question first.</p><p>“My parents died,” he said. “So I ran away from my home country.”</p><p>Her unimpressed expression softened. “Me too. Folken destroyed my country. Did he destroy yours?”</p><p>“My brother destroyed my country. I would have become the king when I was older, but now there’s nothing left to rule over.”</p><p>“You’re a prince?!” The girl knelt and bowed her head. “Forgive me for being so disrespectful, Your Highness!”</p><p>“No, you don’t have to do that!” He waved his hands in front of his face. “You can stand back up.” She stood up, and he continued, “You don’t have to treat me like a prince. I don’t even really have a country to rule anymore.”</p><p>“You have nothing? Are you sure? I wouldn’t give up so quickly. Everyone from Chidornia ran away after the attack. So I have to keep hoping they’re out there and I’ll find them one day.”</p><p>“Everything’s gone. I saw it all get burned to the ground. I have nothing.”</p><p>“Oh… I see. I’m really sorry to hear that.”</p><p>Silence. Then the girl ventured, “What’s your name, prince?”</p><p>“Van.”</p><p>“I’m Merle. I’m from the village of Thon. You’re the first human I’ve talked to.”</p><p>He stared at her for a moment. Then he decided to risk it.</p><p>“I’m not human.” He pulled his shirt over his head. The shimmer of his wings reflected on the water.</p><p>“You’re not—you’re a dragon!”</p><p>He quickly retracted his wings. “I’m from Syllandria, and I’m the last of my clan, aside from my brother.”</p><p>“Why did your brother destroy Syllandria?”</p><p>He lowered his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Fine, don’t tell me.” She stuck out her tongue, and, bending toward the water, swished her hand in it. “Have you ever skipped stones on the river?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“There’s a big lake back in my village. We used to skip stones for hours. You can do it on the river, too. Here, I’ll show you how. First, we have to look for the flat ones. And after we do that, I can show you how to climb trees.”</p><p>“You’re going to stay up all night?”</p><p>“Because I can barely sleep when I remember what the humans did to Chidornia.”</p><p>Van didn’t feel his mind getting foggy either. If he went back to sleep, he would be lonely, and haunted by memories of Dune. He was still scared, even of the kind old couple who took care of him and other orphaned refugees. But this girl gave him no reason to be scared. Most of all, she understood what it was like to lose everything.</p><p>He picked up a smooth, flat stone and showed it to her. “How’s this one?”</p><p>—</p><p>After he met Merle, Van tried to start talking to the other kids in Adom. But though Merle got along with many of the kids, the same kids seemed to recognize how different Van was, and while some of them clearly didn’t mind that he was “human,” other kids kept a safe distance from him. He himself felt safer when he stayed away from the kids and stayed by Merle’s side instead.</p><p>Thankfully, the village elders and some of the older adults were never unkind to Van. There were always plenty of stories to pass around, and he learned more about the culture, traditions, and beliefs of the beasts of Adom. Merle would also tell him how Adom was different from her own village. He wore their clothes, ate their food, slept in the hut of the old couple who watched over him while spiced incense burned in the corner. In the morning, he awoke to fresh bread baking.</p><p>Though he stayed quiet and reserved, he started to relax a little around the old couple who looked after him. When he woke up shivering from nightmares, the old woman sat with him and rubbed his back, and the old man would brew him a cup of herbal tea. Whenever he got sick, or when a festival came around, they painted tattoos on his skin to encourage his health and well-being. The children who lived in the same house always included Van in their games. Though he climbed trees nimbly and clapped along to the beat of their songs, he still felt like an outsider. The other kids in his group were outgoing and friendly, but he couldn’t feel at ease with them like he could around Merle.</p><p>Merle knew when to fill his silences and when to stay quiet. Sometimes she’d come to him just to complain, and he always listened. When he turned eleven, the old man began teaching him how to whittle. Van had to be very cautious with the knife, especially for details, and Merle’s gossip helped him focus while he was working on a project. However, because she was so talkative, Merle was not the best at keeping secrets, and she let it slip that Van was a prince. Everyone started calling him “Lord” Van, and he was irritated at first, but after a few weeks, he got used to it. Though he really wanted to be just Van to them, it did remind him a little of Syllandria to be thought of as royalty. Besides, he didn’t want to lose his only true friend. He’d miss skipping stones with her too much.</p><p>Around the age of thirteen or so, children were expected to start investigating the role they would play in the village’s livelihood when they were adults. Years ago, the villagers had cleared some of the forested land beyond the valley for farming. Farmers toiled in the wheat fields and grew potatoes and vegetables. They raised horses, which provided transportation, particularly for merchants, and goats, which provided milk. Merle took to the horses right away. In the past two years, she had become a little hotheaded and brash from hanging around the kids who played and spoke rough, but she softened around the horses, saying they were <em>such gentle animals</em>.</p><p>Van wasn’t really interested in taking care of the animals, though he was eager ride a horse again. If he decided to return to the ruins of Syllandria one day, it would be easier to ride a horse than to go on foot, or even to fly, which could be not only exhausting but also dangerous. Because he didn’t want to farm, the old couple who looked after him suggested he learn how to hunt. Some of the wolves and other beasts in the village ate meat, and some of them were hunters, but more were always appreciated. So he learned to wield a bow and arrow, and went on his first hunt at the age of fourteen. Killing the animal unsettled him the first few times. The limp body in his hands brought back unpleasant memories of green fields strewn with the bloody bodies of his neighbors.</p><p>A shocking change came in the form of new refugees to the village, a small group of humans from a forested nation called Nordrach. Van was wary of them right away. Though they stared at him at first, as if they were unsure what to think of him, the teenagers and children began greeting him and trying to speak to him. He avoided and ignored them. If they found out he was not a human, what would they say? He had never seen how a human reacted to a dragon, but he knew the history of his clan, and his parents had warned him to be careful around humans.</p><p>The men and older teenagers had brought armor and weapons with them. At first, the sight of the swords chilled Van. When he closed his eyes, he could still see the glint of the sword that Dune had used to behead his father. Yet he found himself fascinated by the long blades they wielded. Because his kind fought with their telekinetic powers, they had little need for physical weapons, and considered a sword a backup or last resort. Some dragons had disapproved of weapons, including Mother. She’d said that swords were for humans, not for dragons. The dragons had developed their powers to defend themselves from humans, and any dragon who carried a sword should be feared.</p><p>A dragon’s powers could awaken any time between the ages of fifteen and twenty. Dune’s powers had awoken right after he turned fifteen. Furious at the oracle’s proclamation, he’d busted a small tree to shreds with his anger. Van was coming up on fifteen, but he hadn’t yet felt anything like what the elders and his parents described. Unsure when his powers would awaken, and ashamed of what they represented to outsiders, Van found the shiny blades a viable and exciting alternative. He decided to approach Ruhm, the wolfman around Dune’s age who had brought in the refugees and was one of the top hunters in the village, about learning to fight.</p><p>After bringing his quarry back to the storehouse one afternoon, Van made his way to the smokehouse where Ruhm had been curing meat since that morning. He called for Ruhm, and he appeared from behind a dangling hock with a smirk.</p><p>“Ah, Lord Van, the littlest hunter. Is there something I can help you with?”</p><p>“Do you know how to use a sword?”</p><p>“A sword? I learned when I lived in Chidornia for a few years, but your best bet would really be one of the human refugees. I’m more skilled with a bow and arrow.”</p><p>“But I don’t want to learn from the humans. I just want to fight like them.”</p><p>“So you ask a beastman to teach you?” Ruhm laughed. “Is there a reason you’re so afraid of humans, despite being one yourself?”</p><p>Van paused; he didn’t want to stutter. Then he said, “Humans were the ones who destroyed my country, not beasts.”</p><p>“True; those humans did have their countries destroyed by other humans. Lucky for you, there’s an old man who says he can craft any weapon or piece of armor you’d like. Without a trained blacksmith, and no reason for a little village like ours to get involved in wars, the ore in these mountains has built up for hundreds of years. It might be time to go and mine it, don’t you think?”</p><p>“The humans don’t have extra swords?”</p><p>“Now why didn’t I think of that? That’ll save us a lot of time.”</p><p>Asking around landed them each a sword, though Ruhm had to duel the young man with a Van-sized blade for the privilege of borrowing it. Van eagerly watched the duel unfold, relishing in the pressure when Ruhm locked his newly-acquired blade with his young opponent’s.</p><p>Ruhm led them to a glade where Van could give swordplay a try. Van still wasn’t used to the weight of a sword. It felt heavy and awkward in his hands, and when Ruhm knocked it from his hand, Dune’s vicious insults seemed to ring in his ears again, telling him he was <em>worthless </em>and that there was <em>no use in trying</em>.</p><p>“Don’t look so down,” Ruhm said. “It’s only been ten minutes, and you’re a hunter by nature, not a swordsman. It’ll take a while before you can swing it around like it’s nothing.”</p><p>“Did I start too late?” Van was fourteen now, nearly fifteen. But some of those boys wielding swords looked to be Merle’s age, maybe younger.</p><p>“They fight because they don’t have a choice. But you and I are safe here. We only hunt because we need food.”</p><p>“Will the humans ever destroy Adom?”</p><p>It was a question that had haunted Van ever since he’d found out that Merle’s country had been destroyed by the humans, and even more now that he knew that the humans’ country had been destroyed, too. Would the mysterious war between the humans ever reach Adom? Syllandria had never needed to prepare for war—and had been burned to the ground before the humans started their war—but Adom was supposed to be a safe place for the refugees affected by war. Adom was not prepared to wage war, even with the small group of refugees who did know how to fight.</p><p>The answer Ruhm gave shocked him. “It is not the humans.”</p><p>Van’s heart skipped. “Not the humans? What do you mean?”</p><p>“It is not beasts, either. There are humans, but they are being controlled by a higher, evil power. They call him a ‘fallen angel,’ and he goes by the name of Folken. Folken is the leader of the military force called the Black Dragon Clan.”</p><p>“‘Black Dragon Clan,’” Van repeated, his mouth hanging open. “As in those who have the blood of dragons?”</p><p>“That’s right. Folken is one of them. I believe he was exiled from his homeland. They say he is the last of his kind.”</p><p>Exiled from his homeland. The last of his kind. Dune had wanted to strike back at the world that had taken his destiny away from him. Dragon Clan. <em>Dragon. Clan</em>.</p><p>“Impossible!” Van lowered his head, clenching his fists. Under his breath, he whispered, “Dune, why?”</p><p>“What’s the matter?”</p><p>He met Ruhm’s eyes again. “Where is this ‘Folken’?”</p><p>Ruhm laughed uneasily. “Slow down, kid! That look in your eyes scares me. Are you planning to hunt him down? It’s not a good idea to go up against someone with so many troops on your own.”</p><p>When Van unclenched his fists, Ruhm continued, “Folken commands a floating fortress, like a giant black panel in the sky. He also has flying ships and hundreds of troops. There’s no way you’ll be able to fight all of <em>them </em>yourself.”</p><p>“Hundreds of troops? Why would someone ever agree to fight under a man wiping entire countries out?!”</p><p>“The world isn’t that simple. He might be paying them. They might be scared, trying to ensure their own safety. I don’t want to hurt those folks, so I’m going to stay right here in Adom with everyone else and take care of everyone affected by his actions.”</p><p>For the first time, anger burned strongest in Van’s chest, overtaking the sorrow and shame. Before, he had felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to stop Dune. He had blamed it on himself. But now he knew it wasn’t his fault that Merle and so many others had lost their homes and families. “Folken” was killing thousands because he couldn’t become king. If he was doing that, he had no chance of becoming king even if he wanted it. The oracle would never crown someone like that king. Never.</p><p>“I can’t stay here any longer,” Van said. “I have to leave. He left me and so many others without a place to call home. I need to stop his war!”</p><p>“What you need right now is to wait a few years.” Ruhm set a hand on his hip. “Be patient, Lord Van. Once you’re strong enough, you’ll be able to set out and fight him. If that is your goal.”</p><p>“I need to. I must.” He would get the people of Syllandria, and the other refugees of Adom, the justice they deserved.</p><p>—</p><p>For nearly three years, Van trained under the tutelage of Ruhm, duelling the human refugees. Merle remained his closest friend, though after Van found out about what Folken was doing to countries that refused to surrender to the Black Dragon Clan, rage had begun to consume his heart, and he isolated himself even more than before. Resentment for Dune, for Folken, built up in the very core of his being, motivating him to become a more skilled hunter, swordsman, and fighter. His powers still hadn’t awoken, but he would always be able to fly. He rode a horse far outside Adom, where Merle watched him dive from cliffsides and glide on dragonwinds, practicing for the day he would spread his wings and fly right into Folken’s floating fortress.</p><p>Folken laid waste to a few more countries, driving another group of refugees into Adom just as the old band of humans left for the road, perhaps to pursue Folken or to return to the remains of their homeland. Van asked the new arrivals about Folken’s current whereabouts. For nearly a year, he had stationed his fortress above Torushina, a large and powerful city-state feigning neutrality to avoid getting crushed by the Black Dragon Clan while attempting to infiltrate its ranks with professional spies. A few minor, amateur rebellions, far less secretive than the spy network, had all been quashed by the Black Dragon Clan’s own spies. Torushina had also apparently been a haven for refugees until the Black Dragon Clan realized the city was housing them.</p><p>Van wanted to set off immediately, but never having gone beyond the mountains, he had no idea where Torushina was. It meant nothing that Ruhm told him Torushina was southwest of Adom—he needed landmarks, or a map. With the few descriptions and crude hand-drawn maps he gleaned from the refugees, visiting merchants, and Ruhm, he drew up a rough map of the way to Torushina, including the wide grassy plains, the remains of beast villages, and a lake halfway between the mountains and the city.</p><p>“Are you sure this is accurate?” Merle looked over the map the evening before they were set to depart. The old couple had left the candles burning so that Van and Merle could prepare their bags before they slept.</p><p>“As accurate as it can get.” Van tightly rolled two blankets together, aiming to fit them into the bottom of the small bag he would sling over his shoulder. The horse would already be carrying their food, water, and clothes. Not to mention more clothes in Merle’s bag, and the knives, flints, tinder, and container of water he had to squeeze into his. “Do you really need that many clothes?”</p><p>“Nah.” She started pulling clothes out of her bag. “But you should pack extra shirts. What if you rip yours up with your wings?”</p><p>“I always take my shirt off before I go flying.”</p><p>“What about a coat? It’s supposed to get cold at night on the plains.”</p><p>Van pointed to the pelt he’d tied around his waist. “It’s going to be hot in the daytime. This is the warmest thing I’m going to wear. You should bring a jacket.”</p><p>“Then I’ll take it out if it’s going to be hot. We’ll have the fire anyway, right?”</p><p>“If you need more room, take out all the flat stones. You’ll just hurt your back.”</p><p>Sighing dramatically, she turned her bag upside down. Stones clacked together, rolling against the wooden planked floor.</p><p>“You’ll wake up everyone in the whole village!” he hissed. “Only take the keepsakes you need.”</p><p>“What if Adom gets attacked while we’re away? I’m taking whatever I want, and you can’t stop me!”</p><p>“Whatever!”</p><p>He didn’t want to spend time and energy arguing with Merle, though he truthfully liked it a lot more when she snapped at him rather than doing what he wanted. She had insisted on coming along because she couldn’t bear to let him go on his own. He didn’t really like the thought of leaving her in Adom either. He didn’t like the thought of leaving Adom itself behind, since the Black Dragon Clan might discover it at any time.</p><p>Then again, maybe Folken didn’t care about any mountain village. Maybe Folken <em>was</em> after him.</p><p>No. He couldn’t blame himself for Dune’s—for Folken’s—actions anymore. Folken razing dozens of countries had nothing to do with what Van had done, or failed to do, and everything to do with Folken’s anger, or more aptly, his <em>ego</em>. Van was done blaming himself. He was not the one who had to pay. Folken, a malignant, destructive force in the shape of his brother, had to, and would, pay for everything he had done.</p><p>“All right, Merle. Take whatever keepsakes you want. But,” he cut in before she could thank him, “pack what we <em>need </em>first. We need food and water, but we don’t need rocks and flowers.”</p><p>“Thank you, Lord Van.”</p><p>Van continued to stuff the bag. Rolling up an extra shirt, he glanced at the keepsakes Merle had dumped onto the floor of the hut. There were plenty of flat stones, a few bead necklaces, hair ribbons, and some wooden animals he’d carved for her. Van sighed. He would miss drinking tea in the evenings and sleeping in his warm bed in the hut, but giving up those luxuries was easy when he considered how comforting it would be to live in peace without the looming threat of Folken and the Black Dragon Clan.</p><p>But leaving Adom behind wasn’t as easy as he’d expected. He’d just turned eighteen, and he was an adult now. He no longer played with the other children. They’d all grown up, left the old couple’s home, and started farming, hunting, or left the village seeking a new life outside its borders. The old couple had painted a permanent tattoo on him for his eighteenth birthday, two blue diamonds on his upper arm to symbolize that he was no longer a child. The ink was dry now, but the thought of facing the villagers in the daytime still brought prickles of tears to his eyes. Despite everything, Adom had truly become a second home to him.</p><p>“Merle,” he whispered. “Let’s leave now.”</p><p>She looked up, her brow furrowing. “Without saying goodbye to everyone?”</p><p>“I’m afraid they’ll change their minds and ask me to stay. After all, those refugees are eventually going to look for Folken, too. I don’t want to wait any longer. Just knowing he’s alive and doing what he’s doing makes me angry.”</p><p>“I understand.” She lowered her head. “Just a few minutes with my adoptive parents?”</p><p>Van didn’t want to refuse her. He waited outside the hut in the cool night air, watching the river flow on by, and when she came out to join him, he didn’t look back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Van had estimated a week’s journey to Torushina, but four days passed without them reaching the halfway point he’d marked on the map. The flat fields of the valley were easy to traverse, and the river ran alongside them, making it easy to find water. But they needed to stop at least once a day to eat and sleep, and though he’d expected he’d have no problem hunting on the move, aiming an arrow on horseback wasn’t exactly easy. Their horse didn’t have all the energy in the world, either. It had to stop and eat, too, and it could only move at a lively trot most of the time, since galloping all the time would tire it out faster.</p>
<p>“Two weeks?!” Merle nearly shrieked when Van delivered his next estimate at their campsite on the fourth night.</p>
<p>“We <em>are </em>coming from the mountains. Getting out of the valley took us nearly a full day.”</p>
<p>He should have asked the refugees for a more accurate estimate, but he’d been too proud, believing he could figure that part out on his own. They’d been escaping, so their journey had probably been quicker. Anyway, he hadn’t left the valley in ten years. How should <em>he</em> know how long it took to get anywhere?</p>
<p>Merle grumbled and ripped into the piece of jerky in her hand. “Folken’s gonna destroy Torushina before we even get there.”</p>
<p>“If you know so much about how long it takes to get to Torushina, why didn’t you make the map?”</p>
<p>Another grumble, though she said nothing else. Van’s stomach burned with shame. Hiding his embarrassment was difficult in the light of the fire, but he needed that same light to make out the trajectory of tomorrow’s journey. The way they were headed, he expected to come upon a village, or the remains of one, tomorrow or the next day. Once they reached it, they could restock their food supply and hit the road again.</p>
<p>Two days later, they were running extremely low on food, with only the berries they’d picked from bushes lining the bottom of Merle’s bag. The grassy fields at the foot of the mountains had faded into dry, rocky plains, leaving the horse hungry and thinning their water supply. Though it was spring in the mountains, it was hot out on the open plains, the sun blazing overhead, beads of sweat rolling down Van’s forehead and back. He hugged the side of the mountains, so that the crags shielded them from the sun in the daytime and provided them shelter in the evening when they stopped to camp. Dinner was a lizard or two. The heat was draining, so he had little energy left to hunt anything larger.</p>
<p>The next day, their water had all but dried up, and his throat was so dry he found it hard to swallow. Then he sighted a leveled village with only a few buildings left standing. The crops had been burnt, and a nearby river looked oddly murky. He reluctantly left the shelter of the cliffsides and rode through the midday heat.</p>
<p>When he reached the edge of the village, he hopped off the horse and cautiously led it through the charred fields. A human guard, ribs evident underneath his thin, dirty shirt, greeted them at the entrance. Van asked for the village inn, and the man pointed them to the largest building in the ruined town. If there really was nothing here, he still wasn’t willing to loot the remains of the houses for any leftover food, even if his stomach was cramping, his hands shaking.</p>
<p>Outside the inn, Van tied the horse and Merle followed him inside. Though his throat was still drier than the plains and his hair damp with sweat, now that he was inside, he no longer felt like he might pass out from the sun beating down on him. Looking around for someone, he noticed a thin, small catperson behind the counter, her arm bandaged, face scarred.</p>
<p>“You don’t look like you’re with them,” she said, making no move to get up.</p>
<p>“We’re against them,” Van said.</p>
<p>“You look hungry.” She braced herself against the counter and got to her feet. “There’s still a loaf of bread left, and I might be able to scrounge up some grains.”</p>
<p>“All I want is directions.”</p>
<p>Merle squeezed his arm.</p>
<p>The woman’s eyes softened. “I can’t let the girl starve. Besides, our only other lodger brought his own food, so we’ve been able to keep the little we have. Please, I insist.”</p>
<p>Van said nothing, only followed the woman through the door to a small tavern. A window was open in the corner, bathing the room in the bright mid-afternoon sun. The dusty wooden tables were all empty, except in the corner where a squat, small moleman sat cradling a cracked ceramic cup, a colorful red wreath decorating his vest, his receding gray hair neatly combed back. Though his eyes appeared to be focused on the window, Van swore the man gazed at him and Merle through his tiny spectacles. While the woman boiled the grains and cut slices of hard, stale bread, spreading the last remains of a jar of marmalade on it, Van snuck glances at the strange man.</p>
<p>“We should have enough hay for your steed,” the woman said, setting the bowls in front of them, along with two small glasses of water. Merle, having devoured her bread, began to gorge herself on the meager grains. Van tried to savor the food, but his cramping stomach ached for more, so after downing all the water, he shoveled his meal into his mouth instead. Stale as it was, almost anything would have been better than lizards.</p>
<p>After they finished eating, Van unfurled the map, showing the woman the progress of their journey.</p>
<p>She pointed to where Van had marked the village. “So you’re here now. Where are you headed?”</p>
<p>“Is it Torushina?” the man in the corner asked.</p>
<p>Van glared at the man. “What makes you think so?”</p>
<p>The man smiled. “You’re on your way to stop the Black Dragon Clan, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>Van turned back to the woman, who looked expectantly from Merle to him to the strange man. Unsure why the man was asking, or why he wanted to know, Van didn’t answer him, and instead pointed to their goal on the map. “Do you know how long it’ll be? My best guess was ten more days on horseback.”</p>
<p>“The lake is about a week on foot away from here. I’d give it eleven days.”</p>
<p>“A good eleven days,” the moleman agreed.</p>
<p>Van stood up from his seat, clutching the table. “Are <em>you</em> headed to Torushina?”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, it’s not quite time for my path to cross with yours.” The man smiled and chuckled. “Do you know the legend of the Wing Goddess? When she descends, the ancient Dragon Armor will awaken. Dune seeks the Dragon Armor, and so he seeks the Wing Goddess.”</p>
<p>Standing up, Van grabbed the map with one hand and tugged on Merle’s hand with the other, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, Merle.”</p>
<p>“Wait,” the woman called. “You have to pay for your room first!”</p>
<p>Van started to reach for the small amount of money in his bag, but the moleman winked, idly tossing coins in his hand. “Let me cover the little prince’s stay.”</p>
<p>After the reminder he’d given Van about the prophecy, he didn’t want to refuse the odd man’s help, even if he wasn’t sure about his intentions yet.</p>
<p>Once Van had gone upstairs and closed the door, Merle turned to him and whispered, “What was he talking about?”</p>
<p>“He was talking about Escaflowne.”</p>
<p>“Escaflowne?”</p>
<p>“There’s a legend in my clan. When the Wing Goddess descends from the Mystic Moon, those who bear the royal blood of dragons will be able to awaken the Dragon Armor, Escaflowne.”</p>
<p>Merle quirked a brow. “A goddess from the Mystic Moon? I would never have thought people actually lived up there.”</p>
<p>Van shrugged. “I’ve never heard of anyone coming here from the Mystic Moon.”</p>
<p>“Anyway, what do you mean by ‘dragon armor’?”</p>
<p>“A Dragon Armor is a living suit of armor. It draws its wearer’s blood to power its heartbeat. Whoever controls Escaflowne can either undo or save the world.”</p>
<p>“But where <em>is</em> Escaflowne?”</p>
<p>He threw his hands up. “Who knows? I didn’t even think it was real until now.”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened. “Does Folken know?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if he knows. But if the legend is true and Escaflowne really does exist, he’ll try to look for it.”</p>
<p>“But if you don’t know where it is—”</p>
<p>He turned away. “All I can do is try to stop him before he finds it.”</p>
<p>Until now, he hadn’t placed much stock in the legend. He’d thought of it as a bedtime story Mother had used to tell. But now, knowing that Folken aimed to destroy the entire world as his revenge, he knew the Dragon Armor could not fall into Folken’s hands.</p>
<p>“If I can kill him before he finds Escaflowne…”</p>
<p>“Even if he has Escaflowne, he doesn’t have royal blood, and he won’t be able to do anything without the Wing Goddess. He won’t be able to even awaken it.” She frowned. “Oh, don’t tell me that means he’s looking for you!””</p>
<p>“No!” He hadn’t meant to shout, but thinking that Folken was still looking for him dredged up some of the old panic and guilt. He turned to face Merle again. “He’s not looking for me, because he already has the power to awaken Escaflowne. He has the royal blood of dragons. Folken is my brother.”</p>
<p>She gasped. “Folken is your brother?!”</p>
<p>“Don’t say it so loud!”</p>
<p>She went quiet for a moment. He clenched his hands into fists and held them at his sides to disguise the trembling.</p>
<p>“He destroyed his own country,” she said quietly. “And so many others. Does that mean…” She hesitated. “Does that mean he wants to use Escaflowne to destroy all of Gaea?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if he’s looking for Escaflowne,” Van said, though he also had an odd feeling that Merle was on to something. “But if he is, I need to stop him before he gets to it.”</p>
<p>“So if he’s not looking for you…”</p>
<p>“He’s looking for the Wing Goddess.”</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t you be looking for the Wing Goddess, too?”</p>
<p>“I’m just going to focus on finding Folken.” Van sat down on the bed, folding his arms tightly against his body.</p>
<p>Merle jumped up on the bed, clutching one of his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to ask that weird guy in the tavern some questions?”</p>
<p>“No. Go away.”</p>
<p>“Fine, be that way!” She blew a raspberry and scampered off the bed. Sitting down in the corner, she opened her bag, inspecting the stones she’d taken along.</p>
<p>Van unhooked the sword from his belt and, taking a small cloth from his bag, started to polish it. A few minutes later, Merle seemed to remember the horse was outside, so she bounded downstairs to check on it. Sheathing his sword, Van sighed, letting out a groan as he fell back onto the bed. He had fallen asleep when Merle returned.</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>The inn hadn’t had enough running water to justify even one, let alone two baths. They would have to stink longer, but drinking water was more important than bathwater. At least there were two slices of bread left over for breakfast, and the horse had eaten enough to sustain it for a few more days’ time. But after that they’d have to stop in another village or pasture, and the land wasn’t exactly fertile around here, nor was the water plentiful. The next few days would be difficult, but Van was determined to find Folken.</p>
<p>On the third day, Merle, who had been mostly silent other than in the evenings when she chatted about childhood stories, groaned, leaning her forehead between Van’s shoulderblades. “How long can these plains go <em>on</em>?! All I see is brown and gray. Seriously, I could do with a little variety! And I’m so thirsty I’m going to die!”</p>
<p>Though they still had water in both their canteens, Van was also so thirsty he felt like he was about to die. But if he complained, too, that’d just make it worse.</p>
<p>“Apparently your throat isn’t dry enough that you can’t whine,” he said instead.</p>
<p>The lake still wasn’t anywhere in sight, and he hadn’t seen anything green in over a week. It was still hot and arid, and the sun hadn’t let up at all. Food was scarce as ever. Goats climbed the distant cliffsides on the other side of the plains, but it was too far to travel. His best bet was to aim at birds passing overhead. He got lucky that afternoon when he nailed a goose and it fell from the sky.</p>
<p>There was a cave indented in the cliffside, hidden behind a few boulders, where they sheltered for the night. The hot, dry air always made starting a fire easier, though he was starting to run out of the tinder he’d brought along and would soon have to start setting shirts and blankets on fire with no vegetation around. He roasted the goose, they shared dinner, and he had just fallen asleep after the sunset faded when she shook him awake.</p>
<p>“…sleep through that? Get up!”</p>
<p>He wiped the drool off his face with the back of his hand. “Sleep through what?”</p>
<p>It didn’t reek of cooked goose or horse manure like it had just a few hours ago. Now he smelled something strange and tantalizing that made his mouth water and stomach ache. “Ohh, what is that smell?”</p>
<p>“I know, right! Someone’s out there! It sounded like a bunch of horses, but way louder. Come on, why don’t we go see?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure? What if—?”</p>
<p>He didn’t want to voice it aloud. Instead, he blinked the sleep from his eyes, sat up and got to his feet, and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.</p>
<p>“Lord Van, I don’t think it’s people from the Black Dragon Clan. They probably would have checked the cave for us already. I think it’s just travelers cooking a meal.” She clutched his arm, shaking him slightly. “Come <em>oooon</em>, I’m so hungry. Can’t we just take a quick peek?”</p>
<p>It was probably a bad idea, but he was too hungry and too curious. He had to find out who and what was outside, and if they were in danger.</p>
<p>“All right, fine. But if they kidnap us, you take the blame.”</p>
<p>“Hey!”</p>
<p>He smirked slightly at her indignance and walked toward the mouth of the cave. He snuck out and hid behind the boulders, and barely withheld his gasp at the sight of a massive wooden and metal house, held up from the ground on wheels like an enormous carriage. He’d read about carriages in books, but didn’t know they could be this large. Giant sails, like on ships and boats, decorated the top of the carriage. Yaks wearing iron yokes idled at the carriage’s head. Though the windows revealed nothing, someone had left the side door open, and a ramp made of planks extended onto the ground.</p>
<p>“The smell’s coming from inside!” Merle whispered. “What are you gonna do?”</p>
<p>“We head in through that open door. If they’re with the Black Dragon Clan, kill them and take their food. If not, ask them for shelter.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” Her voice was small.</p>
<p>“Stay close.”</p>
<p>Clutching the hilt of his sword loosely, he ascended the stairs and walked into the oversized carriage. It really was more like a house inside. Judging by the smells of dried hay and manure, they were in the stables. Four horses exhaled out their noses, and he turned around to look at them. Merle cooed with delight and ran over to pet one of them.</p>
<p>“I don’t see the stores,” he whispered. “Let’s head the other way.”</p>
<p>“Looks awful big and empty up this way.” She sniffed. “But they’re eating downstairs. They have to be somewhere down here.”</p>
<p>He started creeping into the spacious room beyond the stables. Then someone drew him close, pinned both of his arms in place with one arm, and held a dagger beneath his chin. Merle gasped, and Van choked against the person’s hold as a bristly chin brushed his scalp. He tried looking up or to the side to see whether the man was clad in black, but all he saw were bare, muscular, brown arms, his heart pounding underneath the muscle pressed tightly against the bottom of his throat.</p>
<p>“Let him go!” Merle hissed, flashing her claws, eyes blazing with fury. “Let him go and I won’t hurt you!”</p>
<p>“How can I be so sure?” His captor’s voice was rough, nonchalant. “Anyone could be a member of the Black Dragon Clan in disguise.”</p>
<p>“I’m fighting <em>against</em> them!” Van protested, trying to wrest one of his arms free.</p>
<p>“Please, let him go! We were just looking for food. We’re not here for anything else!”</p>
<p>“You do feel awfully scrawny, kid. Not to mention you stink.” He made a noise of disgust. “Man, when was the last time you had a bath?”</p>
<p>“Seriously? That’s the least of my worries!”</p>
<p>“So you’re not from the Black Dragon Clan?”</p>
<p>“No!”</p>
<p>“Well, you know the old saying, right? Enemy of my enemy is also my friend.”</p>
<p>The man loosened his grip, and the dagger’s glint passed by in his peripheral vision. Merle’s tail was still bristling, and Van’s hand went right to the hilt of his sword. Turning around, he saw his captor more clearly: a tall man with a stubbly chin and short dark hair, wearing a cropped red shirt and brown vest that exposed his muscular stomach.</p>
<p>“We just went hunting, so that’s our dinner you’re smelling,” the man said.</p>
<p>“Is there any left?” Van said.</p>
<p>“Wow, I don’t even get your name?”</p>
<p>“If you’re going to feed us, do it. We have somewhere to be.”</p>
<p>“Let me ask the boss first. Gotta make sure there’s space around the table for you two.”</p>
<p>Though he removed his hand from the hilt of his sword as the man walked away, Van was unsure if he and Merle would be let in without fighting “the boss.” Though he was no longer trapped by his captor’s muscular arms, his body still shook, his head spinning. He wanted to remain cautious, but he found himself unable to think about anything other than the meal. The goose had been a meager dinner, and his stomach ached with emptiness.</p>
<p>“The way Gaddes talked, I expected a bigger threat than a scrawny boy.”</p>
<p>In the hallway stood a tall, elegant man clad in a black uniform, long blonde hair parted in the middle. Everything about him was prim and perfect, from his silky hair to his smooth voice to his neat, straight posture. And the smirk on his lips, which made Van decide that he <em>really </em>hated the guy.</p>
<p>“Are you ‘the boss’?!” Van drew his sword, curling his lips in a snarl.</p>
<p>“That’s what they call me,” the man crooned. “Put your sword away. I have no reason to fight a starving child.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em>eighteen</em>.”</p>
<p>“Sorry. I was mistaken. You’re much closer to my age than I thought.” He offered his hand. “My name is Allen.”</p>
<p>“Van.” He refused to grab his hand. If he showed any cordiality to this insufferable jerk, that would just mean he’d won, and Van didn’t want to let him win.</p>
<p>Allen withdrew his hand with a smirk. “You’re quite coarse, aren’t you? You’ll get along well with the people who make their home with me.”</p>
<p>“Just because I don’t want to hold your hand doesn’t mean I don’t have manners.”</p>
<p>He laughed, like bells jingling. “I’m not insulted in the slightest. In fact, I like your attitude. Come along, Van, we’ll get you fed. Then you can show me your skill with a sword.” Turning to Merle, he asked, “And your name is?”</p>
<p>“Merle,” she grumbled.</p>
<p>Allen hummed, amused. “I see, it might take a while for both of you to thaw. That’s fine; I’m a patient man.”</p>
<p>Van sheathed his sword and followed Allen deeper into the giant carriage. The tantalizing smell came closer until they entered a room with a large table where seven men sat, the stubble-chinned one among them, with one woman. They were all elbow-deep in their meals, laughing and talking, until Allen cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me, everyone.”</p>
<p>Eight heads turned to face them. Merle nestled closer into Van’s side.</p>
<p>“Please welcome our guests for the evening, Van and Merle. They’ve traveled a long way, and they’ll be joining us for dinner tonight.”</p>
<p>A big guy got up from his seat and walked to the corner of the room, hoisting a barrel, holding it to his hip, and carrying it to the table. The stubble-chinned guy carried another barrel, setting it down next to that one, and everyone moved to make space for the added barrels. The woman retrieved two plates from the cupboard, and a skinny, pale guy handed her two sets of utensils and cloth napkins.</p>
<p>“Make yourself at home,” the woman said.</p>
<p>Van sat on the barrel and served himself from the bowls and platters on the table. There was just barely enough left for him and Merle: rice, vegetables, hard bread, and roasted meat covered in a fruit sauce. Not only was the sauce flavorful—both sweet and tart—the meat had a few spices rubbed into it, which reminded him of the incense burned in Adom. When the woman poured water for them, he washed his meal down with it, and though it hadn’t been the most he’d ever eaten, he felt satisfied, his stomach settled but not overly full.</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen two people eat so quickly,” one of the guys, a blonde man, marveled.</p>
<p>“That was ’cause Reeden and Millerna were on cooking duty,” another said.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Reeden’s stuff is the best! Especially because his folks used to own a restaurant.”</p>
<p>“Kinda unfair to the rest of us, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“And what about me?” the woman asked.</p>
<p>“Without you, I wouldn’t get anywhere,” the skinny guy said.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought.” She winked. “Hey, our guests’ mouths were so full they didn’t get the chance to say anything. Where are you two from? And where are you going?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, anyway,” one of the men said.</p>
<p>Everyone’s eyes turned to Van. Merle pushed her shoulder against his.</p>
<p>He wiped his mouth roughly with his napkin. “Why should I tell you?”</p>
<p>“Lord Van,” Merle whispered through her teeth.</p>
<p>“We’re not with the Black Dragon Clan, you know,” the woman said. “We’re against them. In fact, we’re all from different countries.”</p>
<p>“All of ’em destroyed by Folken,” the big guy said.</p>
<p>“There’s no reason to be afraid.” Allen got up from his seat behind Van and Merle, at the opposite head of the table from the woman, and walked up to stand behind her, setting one hand on his hip and the other on the table. “Gaddes told me all about your little encounter. I’m more interested in knowing if you can fight for us, ‘Lord Van.’”</p>
<p>Van gripped the table firmly with one hand. He’d been so caught up in dinner that he’d forgotten Allen’s challenge.</p>
<p>“Shall we?” Allen said.</p>
<p>He walked back into the open, empty room through which they’d come. Van stood up and followed, grinding his teeth, his brow furrowed deeply.</p>
<p>Allen stood in the empty room with his sword drawn. Merle leaned against the wall, watching from a safe distance. Everyone else, having snuck in behind Van, whispered among themselves.</p>
<p>“Do you think the kid’ll win?”</p>
<p>“No way, he won’t last a minute!”</p>
<p>“He might be little, but he acts older than his size.”</p>
<p>“Be careful what you say about his height! I’ve seen thirteen-year-olds with less pent-up anger than him!”</p>
<p>“If you don’t stop flapping your trap, he’ll attack you instead of the boss!”</p>
<p>Van hissed through his teeth, his entire body shaking. Wailing with fury, he charged at Allen, who instantly parried him with only a one-handed grip. Van drew himself up and attempted another strike, throwing more of his body behind it. Allen parted his feet slightly and pushed him away firmly.</p>
<p>“It’ll take more than that to shake me,” Allen taunted. “Why don’t you control that rage of yours a little more? I’m not Folken. Just calm down.”</p>
<p>Sneering, Van rushed forward and landed another hit. When Allen pushed back, Van maintained the tension, returning his force equally. Their blades broke apart just as Allen went for another swing. Van dodged and tried for a second strike, but missed, and while his blade was pointed toward the ground, Allen swung downward with a powerful blow and knocked the sword from Van’s grasp.</p>
<p>Van’s chest felt tight. Breathing heavily, he knelt to the floor to pick up his sword. There was a whistle in his breath, and he started to cough, his ribs heaving, an odd tickle in his throat.</p>
<p>“Lord Van!” Merle squeaked.</p>
<p>Someone held a canteen below his lips. He snatched it up and tipped his head back, water sliding down his dry throat.</p>
<p>“The hay must have got to him,” one of the men said.</p>
<p>“I think the heat got to him!” another said.</p>
<p>“Yeah, the heat the boss brought!”</p>
<p>Laughter. Van cleared his throat, wiped his mouth with the hand that still held his sword, and threw the canteen to the ground, a metallic clang echoing in the empty room.</p>
<p>“Hey, what’d you do that for?” said the guy who must have brought him the canteen.</p>
<p>Someone else “whispered,” “Really thinks he’s hot shit, huh?”</p>
<p>Van didn’t react to them. He sheathed his sword and looked across the room at Allen.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Van. I enjoyed our duel very much,” Allen said. Then the smirk disappeared from his face, and Van’s shoulders tensed slightly. “What is your end goal?”</p>
<p>Van remained silent.</p>
<p>“If your goal is to defeat Folken…” Allen folded his arms. “Then I promise you won’t be disappointed if you come along. We’re working together to ensure he won’t win, but we need all the help we can get.”</p>
<p>The skinny, pale guy rushed to Allen’s side. “Boss, are you sure about this?”</p>
<p>The smirk returned. “What’s two more mouths to feed?” Then it was gone again as he faced Van. “Your country—or countries—were destroyed by the Black Dragon Clan, too, weren’t they? Why travel alone, if your goal is the same as ours? Please. Come with us, won’t you?”</p>
<p>“The boss must be desperate to beg like that,” another guy said behind Van.</p>
<p>“He wouldn’t beg if he didn’t think the kid was special.”</p>
<p>“More like he’d still beg anyway because he’s so softhearted.”</p>
<p>“Shh! I wanna hear what the kid says!”</p>
<p>Van dropped his hand from the hilt of his sword. He looked across the room where Merle stood. He thought about the horses in the stable, and, rather selfishly, about how dinner had filled his stomach.</p>
<p>“Fine. I’ll come with you,” he said. Then, glaring at Allen, whose perpetual smirk had been replaced by a genuine smile, “Don’t expect us to be close friends or anything.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All of the men, and the woman, who had sat around the dinner table that evening introduced themselves to Van and Merle before he could drag her away from them. The stubble-chinned guy who had held his dagger to Van’s throat was Gaddes; the skinny, pale guy who’d helped cook dinner was Reeden; the big guy who’d brought their barrels over was Kio. The blonde guy’s name was Katz; a thin man with a bald head and light brown skin was Ort; a man with a shaved head and dark brown skin went by Teo; and a man with pale skin and a big nose went by Pyle. The woman’s name was Millerna. Van didn’t really see any reason to remember all those names and faces.</p><p>He wanted them to find out as little about him as possible. The less they knew, the better. This group was determined to take down Folken, and if they knew Van was his brother, or even that he was a dragon, he might be forced to leave. As much as he hated not traveling alone, staying was the smartest option. The plains were too barren and dry to travel on his own, especially since he’d had so much trouble finding food.</p><p>He hadn’t caught the group’s name yet, but it wasn’t as if he cared. They weren’t with the Black Dragon Clan, and that was all that mattered. The less they knew about him, the better, but the more he knew about the group’s aims, the better. He’d have to find out more eventually. Though that would require acting like he wanted to be with them.</p><p>It wasn’t that he <em>didn’t</em> want to travel with them. Undeniably, he’d made the right decision, both for himself and for Merle, who, though she couldn’t fight, could tend to the horses. She held lively conversations with almost everyone in the group. Millerna hung around her most often, talking about horses and the steed she’d owned in her home country.</p><p>Listening to everyone talk to Merle, Van picked up on country names. Every country had a different name from the last, which made him sick to his stomach. Nine nations for all nine of the members of their little group. Folken had really destroyed this many countries. Being with their group was opening his eyes far more than being in isolated little Adom.</p><p>Though the men and Millerna didn’t make much of an effort to talk to him, having given up after he either stayed silent or told them to go away, they were constantly bringing him food and water. Van ate at regular mealtimes, but he couldn’t bring himself to reject the extra food, even if he knew it showed that he appreciated their help. One evening, Millerna came to him and said, “Merle tells me you can hunt,” and though he turned his head away with a “Whatever,” he ended up saddling Merle’s horse and helping with the hunt. But he refused to help cook, and Allen didn’t force him, leaving it to the rest of the group.</p><p>“You’re still my guests,” he explained.</p><p>Van was fine with that. He didn’t really want to be considered one of <em>them</em>.</p><p>Though it was comfortable and quiet in the stables, he didn’t really get to see what was ahead of the caravan. When he’d gone out hunting with Millerna and Teo, they had still been in the middle of nowhere on the plains. He’d seen a hint of green in the distance, and thought there might be a water source out there. It did turn out to be a tributary, leading to a huge lake surrounded by patches of green grass. The dusty, dry plains began to give way to more fertile land, and within a week, they’d reached the lake.</p><p>Fish was a nice break from the meat they’d had for dinner every night. Merle seemed to be far more into it, and Van, never having eaten much fish, enjoyed it. They even brought in water from the lake so everyone who wanted a bath could take one. It was also cooler by the water, so Van left the caravan after dinner to walk along the shore and look up at the stars. The night air making gentle ripples on the lake’s surface reminded him of sitting by the river in Adom where he’d first met Merle. When he’d left, she’d already been asleep, but he could still look for skipping stones without her.</p><p>“Mind if I join you?”</p><p>Van flinched, looking over his shoulder. “Allen?!” Turning toward him, he went for the hilt of his sword. “What are you doing out here?”</p><p>Allen sighed. “Come on, do you honestly think I came out here to hurt you?”</p><p>Van retained his stance, staring at Allen.</p><p>“Go ahead.” Allen gestured toward the shore. “You can keep looking for stones to skip.”</p><p>Van looked to Allen’s waist; there was no sword belt. He might have a dagger hidden on him, but otherwise he was unarmed. Slowly, he knelt back down to the shore of the lake, sifting through the damp rocks at his feet, glancing back at Allen now and then. When he found a broad, flat one, he stood up and tossed it, watching it bounce across the water with two plinks before it sunk.</p><p>“I think you need something a bit lighter,” Allen said, nearly right in his ear.</p><p>Van backed slightly away from him and looked at the broad, smooth, thin rock in Allen’s hand. He stood up and flicked the rock with a sharp turn of his wrist. It skipped three times before sinking.</p><p>“Haven’t lost my touch yet,” Allen said under his breath. He stooped back down, smiling. “How long has it been since I’ve just skipped rocks on a lake? It’s so relaxing.”</p><p>Van breathed sharply out his nose. “Could do without you running your mouth.”</p><p>“No matter how you try, you can’t avoid me forever. Aren’t you getting lonely? I’ll keep you company.”</p><p>“I never asked you to.”</p><p>Allen clicked his tongue, which made Van’s blood boil. He couldn’t <em>stand</em> that stupid smirk!</p><p>“Too bad.” He sat down on the shore while Van continued inspecting the rocks. “Is this something you did in your homeland?”</p><p>Van said nothing.</p><p>“It’s very nostalgic for me, personally. Where I grew up, water was plentiful. A river ran through the town. We’d skip stones on the water and drink from wells. There wasn’t much farming to be done in the woods, but everyone who was able learned to be hunters from an early age.” He sighed. “Now that’s all gone. Not just my hometown, but all of Nordrach has been ruins for nearly ten years now.”</p><p>Van felt a pang of curiosity upon hearing the familiar name. “Where did you go after it was destroyed?”</p><p>“On the road. But a fair amount of my neighbors and friends ended up in Adom. It’s supposed to be a nice place.”</p><p>“It is,” Van said without thinking.</p><p>“So you’ve been there? I’ve heard its people are kind and welcoming. Though even if I’d gone there, I doubt it would have made me feel any better about the loss of my country.”</p><p>Van threw a rock and watched the ripples appear. When he blinked, he saw the flames from the day Dune had torched the castle and burnt Syllandria to ashes. He clenched his shaky hands into fists.</p><p>“What about you, Van?” Allen’s voice was gentle and genuine, lacking any of the bravado he usually put on. “Was your country destroyed by the Black Dragon Clan?”</p><p>Van skipped a stone, and it sunk after the second ripple. Rather than kneeling to look through the stones, he sat on the grass next to Allen and met his eyes.</p><p>“It was destroyed.” His voice came out mousy, without any edge. “Merle’s too. We met each other years ago. In Adom.”</p><p>“You’ve known her a long time. I can tell.” Allen smiled, not his arrogant smirk but a genuine smile. “They’ve all been with me a long time, Millerna and Reeden aside. Though most of us are from different countries, we were united by our goal of ending the tyranny of the Black Dragon Clan. It’s that common goal that gives us our strength, both our physical strength and the strength of our will to resist.”</p><p>Van wouldn’t have guessed Millerna and Reeden were recent additions. Everyone fit naturally into the group, and they all seemed experienced and hardened. Van had never seen a real battle, and Allen had wiped the floor with him. Yet Allen had chosen him—invited him to join them—nonetheless. Why had Allen been so willing to extend the offer to someone he didn’t even know? They had been complete strangers. But from the moment Allen had met Van, he’d wanted to see if he could fight. He’d wanted Van to join them.</p><p>“I don’t mean to bore you with my life story.” Allen stood up. “What I really came out here to ask… well, I wanted an answer to that question I asked when you first joined us. I never got one.”</p><p>“Spit it out.”</p><p>“What is your goal?”</p><p>“Torushina,” he said, without thinking. Seemingly unable to stop, he continued, “To find and kill Folken.”</p><p>“Lofty ambitions.” The false charm was back on in full. “That’s where we’re headed. We’ve just got a quick detour to make, since your friend gave us an interesting lead.”</p><p>“What?” Van sprang to his feet. “What did you do to Merle?!”</p><p>Allen’s smirk faded, and his expression hardened. “Absolutely nothing. I’m just going off of something she told Kio. Do you really still not trust me?”</p><p>Van’s heart clenched. “What reason do I have?” he said, even as his words came out sounding hollow. “To trust you?”</p><p>“Who knows?” Allen shrugged. “I may just save your life one day.”</p><p>Though he should have been ready with a smart retort, Van felt strangled. He could only stare as Allen winked at him, turning his head with a swish of blonde hair and walking back into the caravan.</p><p>—</p><p>They left the lake behind for more flat, dull plains. All Van could see was plains, all around them, and he still didn’t know where they were going, but their journey was interrupted when Katz, sent down from the pilots’ room to warn them, told them of an enemy faction riding by on horseback.</p><p>Van hopped to his feet from the hay where he’d been polishing his sword clean. Sheathing it, he rushed to Merle’s horse behind its stall door. But Merle stood in his way, clutching his wrists and blocking him from the lock.</p><p>“What are you doing?” He freed his hands from her grasp, but she wouldn’t move from in front of the lock. “Out of my way!”</p><p>She grabbed his hands again. “No! Those soldiers could hurt you. I’m not willing to lose you!”</p><p>“Why did I learn to fight? To protect myself! Besides, they’re giving me food and shelter for a reason. This is the least…”</p><p>He pushed her hands aside.</p><p>“…I can do…”</p><p>He shoved her to the side.</p><p>“…for them!”</p><p>He undid the lock, grabbing the saddle and reins.</p><p>“Now help me. You can do it the fastest. No time to argue!”</p><p>“Lord Van!” She wrung her hands. “I’m going to be alone if you die out there!”</p><p>“And <em>I’m</em> going to be alone if they break in and kill you. Come on!”</p><p>She helped saddle the horse, then she moved aside, and he rode the horse out the back ramp of the caravan, turning forward to join Allen and the others. He was shocked to see not human soldiers, but a group of hyenas, some clad in black armor, some clad in the garb of their tribes. The black armor unmistakably belonged to the Black Dragon Clan. But he’d thought Folken’s army was made up entirely of humans. Were beastpeople really willingly siding with Folken?</p><p>“Watch out!” Katz said in his ear.</p><p>Van swerved his horse out of Katz’s way, and Katz thrust his sword into the chest of an armored soldier with a squirt of blood. Van flinched, and, backing up a little, lingered on the fringe of the action. The last time he’d witnessed a battle, it had become a catastrophe. He could get away unscathed or with minor wounds, or, just like Merle had said, he could fall here. But the Abaharaki soldiers rode into battle with no hesitation. Everyone knew their place, and no one waited even a second. He couldn’t hesitate either. An enemy like Folken would show no mercy to a coward.</p><p>Snarling, Van charged at an approaching soldier, locking their blades. The unarmored soldier’s counter was halfhearted. Through their crossed blades, Van could see pain in the hyena man’s eyes.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“What are you fighting for?” Van asked, loud enough for his opponent to hear, but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear. “Do you honestly believe in Folken’s goals?!”</p><p>The hyena pushed back against his strike. “Don’t surrender. Surrender to us and you lose your friends and your freedom!”</p><p>“I’ll never give in to him!” Van slashed with as much power as he would put behind any strike, only blinking once when blood squirted from the man’s body and he fell off his mount. The soldier’s horse bayed and escaped.</p><p>A chill ran up Van’s spine, his forehead burning. He’d never killed anyone before, and now the hyena man was lying on the ground, dead. His mouth watered like he was going to get sick, so before he could start retching, he looked away and gripped the horse’s reins tighter. Van couldn’t have just let him escape with minor injuries. He’d just return to the Black Dragon Clan. Didn’t these soldiers’ loyalty lie with Folken? Or was it more complicated, just like Ruhm had suspected? What had his opponent meant by telling him not to surrender?</p><p>“Behind you!”</p><p>Jerking the horse’s reins, Van narrowly dodged Allen’s strike, which landed on the shoulders of the soldier in front of him. He had no time to hesitate.</p><p>He heard the galloping of hooves on his left side, and, turning toward his aggressor, struck him across the shoulders, followed by a well-timed dagger from Gaddes in the distance. Another horse whinnied behind him, and before he could turn around, the soldier’s sword sliced a deep cut in his side, and he bit his lip, groaning under his breath.</p><p>“Lean back!” Millerna cried. Van leaned to the side, and an arrow whizzed past his ear and buried itself in his opponent’s chest before he could injure Van a second time.</p><p>His side throbbed, blood trickling from his open wound. He’d lost sight of their goal. It didn’t matter if their enemies were beasts or humans; they were from the Black Dragon Clan. These soldiers weren’t here just to fight a little bit and then run away. They intended to kill. He needed to fight back with all he had.</p><p>Allen had taken on their commander, who was pressing the blade of his lance firmly against Allen’s sword. Their blades unlocked, and the soldier slashed Allen’s jacket open, blood dripping from his right shoulder. Allen swapped hands and prepared to strike back, but not before his opponent made for his neck. Then Teo’s arrow pierced the horse’s haunch, and the horse reared. The commander stayed on, but when he lost his balance, Gaddes plunged his dagger into the soldier’s back, and Allen maneuvered his horse and leaned over one side to stab the man in the stomach.</p><p>Then Allen shouted, “Fall back!”</p><p>“What?” Van snarled. He was going to <em>retreat</em>? Sure, the commander was down, but the soldiers were still fighting. But when he turned to face his current opponent, the soldier lowered his sword and backed away, looking at his few remaining comrades and at Allen. Mirroring Allen’s order, the remaining soldiers retreated.</p><p>Van let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, looking at the bodies strewn around their feet, and the two slain horses, large and awkward on the bloody plains. His head was spinning, and his side still stung.</p><p>“You think they were really with them?” Gaddes said. He had parked his horse beside Allen’s and looked at him expectantly.</p><p>“Yes, but I think they were ‘forced recruits.’”</p><p>“In other words, prisoners.” Gaddes shuddered. “He stops at nothing.”</p><p>“Why does it matter whether or not they were prisoners?” Van snapped. “You let our enemies get away!”</p><p>Before he could bite it back, he groaned in pain, bending over and clutching his side.</p><p>“Van, are you all right?” Allen disembarked his horse and rushed to Van’s side. “Your shirt’s dark here!”</p><p>He made for the hem of Van’s shirt, but Van slapped him away. “Don’t touch me, you dirty coward!”</p><p>Allen glared at him, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. “It’s not cowardice, Van. It’s self-preservation. You’re lucky you’re followed orders, because if you had disobeyed, you’d be a dead man.”</p><p>Van’s stomach curled with shame, and he bowed his head. He was still furious, but he wouldn’t ever admit what Allen said was right.</p><p>“I saw him get sliced,” Millerna said. “It doesn’t look good. Captain, are <em>you </em>all right?”</p><p>Allen smirked. “Heh… I’m fine.” The blood leaking from his cut had already stained his skin and his torn sleeve. “That commander put up a respectable fight.”</p><p>“Respect-a-whatever my ass, Boss—you’re bleeding,” Ort said. “And the kid’s even worse. Ree, you mind hopping back on and getting some bandages?”</p><p>“Gotcha! Hang in there, Boss, Van.” Reeden rushed back toward the caravan.</p><p>“Is everyone else all right?” Allen started to ask, but he was interrupted by Merle crying, “Lord Van!”</p><p>She ran across the plains until she stood next to him. He carefully disembarked the horse, clutching his side.</p><p>“You’re <em>bleeding</em>!” Merle screeched. A few of the men winced. “Which of you let him get hurt?” She pointed her fingers at them. “Huh? Huh?”</p><p>Before anyone could answer her, Van said, “It’s fine, Merle. It was my fault for not paying attention.”</p><p>“Well, one of <em>you </em>should have been paying enough attention to look out for him!” She folded her arms. “I knew you’d get hurt. You’re lucky you’re still alive!”</p><p>“Have some faith, little lady!” Pyle slapped Van on the shoulder. “Who knows if we would have won without your ‘lord’ Van?”</p><p>“Did we really ‘win,’ though?” Katz said. “We kinda let them get away at the end there.”</p><p>“It’s true they weren’t resisting much, which is why I let them go,” Allen said. He closed his eyes, smiling serenely. “But who knows what might have happened without the extra help?”</p><p>“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t thankful!” Katz protested.</p><p>Van winced when he heard the slap from behind him.</p><p>“Merle!” He turned toward her, but had to pause mid-turn, clenching his teeth with a groan, a pulsing pain in his side.</p><p>“Kid, Boss.” Kio clapped Allen on the shoulder. “How ’bout we get you two inside and patched up?”</p><p>“Yes, let’s go,” Allen said. His brow knit in concern. “Is everyone else—?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, Boss.”</p><p>As they walked back toward the caravan, Van glanced at Allen. Allen caught his eye at the same time, and offered him a small smile.</p><p>—</p><p>Reeden stitched and bandaged his and Allen’s wounds, and Pyle washed their stained clothes. A couple days passed on the road. Van’s wound had been a deep cut, and it still throbbed, not even close to closing. After the battle, he didn’t mind taking a break from training, but not being able to hunt was more frustrating than he’d expected. Lifting his arm, he looked at his tattoo and thought about the river and the green valley he’d left behind. He hadn’t had to fight there. Hunting was the only time he’d needed to take another life. Maybe being oblivious to Folken’s war hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.</p><p>Just as his wound was finally beginning to close, they suddenly arrived at the ruins of the village where he and Merle had stopped. Now he understood what Allen had meant by a “lead.”</p><p>“We left somebody behind,” Allen explained. “He wanted to come back and visit what was left of his hometown, so it’s only natural we’d pick him up.”</p><p>Most of them went along with Allen into town. Merle stayed in the stables and looked after the horses, and Katz stayed on guard. They made their way to the inn and went straight to the tavern. That strange moleman sat in the corner, shuffling coins in his hands. Though he said hello to Allen, his eyes seemed to stare at Van from behind his spectacles, just like before.</p><p>“I see that you have great power among you,” the strange man said.</p><p>“Oh? And what would that be?”</p><p>Van raised his eyebrows, looking over at Allen. Did Allen know this weirdo?</p><p>“The power required to awaken the Dragon Armor.”</p><p>Van felt himself tense, though he tried to hide his apprehension. If he slayed this man now… no, he couldn’t. He seemed useful, despite how mysterious he was.</p><p>“The Dragon Armor, you say?” Allen hummed in interest. “Tell me more, prophet.”</p><p>The man pointed to Van with a toothy smile. “The blood of dragons flowing in the prince will awake the Dragon Armor. When the Wing Goddess descends, the Armor will descend with her.”</p><p>Everyone except Van gasped.</p><p>“<em>He</em> possesses the blood of dragons?!” Allen whipped his head around, turning to Van.</p><p>“He’s a prince?!” Gaddes cried.</p><p>“I get it now. ‘Lord’ Van!” Pyle whispered.</p><p>Everyone’s eyes were on Van, and his face grew hot.</p><p>“Then does he possess powers…?”</p><p>The man chuckled. “Powers of the mind? Indeed, indeed.”</p><p>“Incredible,” Allen said.</p><p>“No way,” Reeden said.</p><p>“<em>He </em>does?” Teo scratched his chin.</p><p>Millerna folded her arms. “Unbelievable.”</p><p>Van tore out of the room, away from the giggling moleman and back to the caravan. They’d all found out! Now that they knew, what would they say? What would they do?</p><p>He’d probably have to go back on the road alone with Merle again. He’d probably be safer, or at least less of a target, if he traveled alone. He could stand up to Folken on his own. He didn’t need any of them. Yet he found himself rushing back to the stables where Merle tended the horses, rather than running away from the caravan.</p><p>Humans feared dragons because of their powers. And these humans were fighting the dragon who had caused the world’s suffering, who had destroyed so many countries and made the city of Torushina and the people of the beast villages bow to him. When he was a child, he’d used to believe what Dune had become had been all his fault. Would they, could they, possibly blame him for what Folken had done, even if they did not yet know he was Folken’s brother?</p><p>“Lord Van?” Merle looked up from the horses as he burst in the side of the caravan.</p><p>Van paused to catch his breath, bending down, his head still spinning.</p><p>“You’re out of breath. What happened? Did someone attack?” She hesitated before asking, “Did they turn on you?”</p><p>His heart was racing. Lifting his head, he took a step toward the haystacks where he usually sat, only to stumble.</p><p>“Sit down. I’ll get you some water, then tell me what happened.”</p><p>Van wiped the sweat off his brow, feeling his balance returning properly. Merle brought him the canteen and he took a drink. His bangs dripped with sweat; he pushed them out of his eyes.</p><p>“They all know,” he said.</p><p>“Know what?”</p><p>“That I’m a dragon. I don’t know what they’re going to do when they come back, but we’d better be prepared to run.”</p><p>“Why do we need to run?”</p><p> “Isn’t it obvious? My brother is Folken! Even if they don’t know that, it doesn’t matter. He’s a dragon, and he’s everyone’s worst enemy. And I’m a dragon, too.”</p><p>“But…” She clenched her fists, brow knitted in concern. “They know you want to kill Folken, right? They know you’re not here to hurt them. How could they possibly think you’re on his side?”</p><p>“I don’t know, but I don’t exactly trust these people!” His forehead was burning, his heart still pounding in his chest. His head had started to spin again. “I’m only using them to get to Torushina so I can kill Folken. That’s the only reason I’m staying with them!”</p><p>“You’re wrong! You were dead set on going to Torushina on your own. You’re not just staying with them to go there. You’re staying here because it makes sense. But it’s not just that. I saw you talking to Allen at the lake, and I saw the hit you took for them in battle. Lord Van… Even with me by your side, you’re still lonely! That’s why you won’t leave them!”</p><p>“I am not <em>lonely</em>!”</p><p>Standing up, he pushed her aside, walking to the crate in the corner by the rear door. He climbed up, folding his arms tightly and looking toward the wall. Tears burned behind his eyes when he thought about them returning in just a few minutes with that stupid moleman. What was Allen going to say? He was going to kick him out, or worse, try to kill him. His head was swimming with pent-up energy, like a headache pulsing in the veins beneath his skin. He felt so angry that he thought he could bust the back door open with his mind if he concentrated harder.</p><p>Then the crate he was sitting on burst into shreds of wood, and he landed flat on the floor with a grunt of surprise and pain. He hissed through his teeth, turning his hands palms up. A tear had already slipped out of his eye, but he didn’t rub it away in case of splinters.</p><p>Merle squeaked from across the room. Lifting his head, he turned to glare at her.</p><p>“Um, Lord Van, I don’t think that was the crate.”</p><p>“What?” he snarled. Then he realized his pulsing headache was gone.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure that was <em>you</em>.”</p><p>Van’s anger faded. He should have felt overjoyed that his powers had finally awoken, but all he could think was, <em>Now I’ve really done it</em>. How was he going to explain away the pulverized crate? It wasn’t as if he could; the weird moleman had revealed his lineage, and they’d probably believe him, since Allen seemed to trust him. But did they even know about Escaflowne? Were they planning to take it for themselves? If that were the case, then he might <em>have </em>to stay with them out of necessity.</p><p>“Van?” came Allen’s voice from outside the caravan.</p><p>Looking at Merle, Van shook his head, then shuffled into the corner and buried his head in his knees, closing his eyes.</p><p>“Van? Are you here? Oh, it’s you, Merle. Where’s Van?”</p><p>“Lord Van isn’t here, but he should come back soon.”</p><p>“I see. We’ll be in the next room if you need us. It’s just about dinnertime, so hopefully he’ll be back by then. Come on, everyone.”</p><p>In the hallway, Katz greeted Allen. “Boss, what’s the scoop?”</p><p>“Hi, Katz. We found out that…”</p><p>Their voices became more distant, but Van continued to listen to what he could make out.</p><p>“Forget the armor, what’s ‘dragon blood’ mean again?”</p><p>“Means what it says, you idiot, he’s a dragon.”</p><p>“It means he’s got those mind powers… tele-something-or-other!”</p><p>“What, so he can kill you just by thinking about it? Wouldn’t wanna piss <em>him</em> off.”</p><p>“They got wings, too. Freaks me out a little if I’m honest.”</p><p>Van’s heart fell into his stomach, and he buried his face deeper in his knees. Across the room, Merle growled.</p><p>“Wings means he can fly, right? Bet that comes in handy. I could use a pair.”</p><p>“I want ’em, too!”</p><p>“I don’t care… myself, but d’ya think he even knows how to control those powers?”</p><p>“Who cares about the wings or the powers? I just wanna know…”</p><p>“I’m with ya. Who cares if he’s a dragon?”</p><p>“You’re all missin’ the point! We got royalty among us now!”</p><p>“Yeah, do we have to start calling him ‘Lord’ Van now?”</p><p>“He sure don’t act like any prince I ever seen!”</p><p>“All of you, enough. Listen to me.”</p><p>Everyone fell silent at Allen’s interruption. Van adjusted his head, resting one ear against his knees. Now that the chatter wasn’t overlapping, it would be easier to hear everything.</p><p>“When Van first came to us looking for food and shelter, how did we treat him once the misunderstanding was cleared up?”</p><p>“Just normal.”</p><p>“Yeah, just like the rest of us.”</p><p>“And in the battle, did Van choose to fight or did he stay back?”</p><p>“He fought!”</p><p>“Even got wounded!”</p><p>“He certainly did. Van has already proven he’s on our side. His lineage and his actions are not connected. That aside, why would you treat him—and not Merle—differently? She isn’t human either, yet you have been nothing but accepting of her. Perhaps that’s because you understand the plight of the beast tribes whose villages have been destroyed. But Van’s homeland was destroyed, too.</p><p>“If anything, your determination to kill Folken and end his reign of terror should be renewed, knowing that his despicable actions have even affected other dragons. Our enemy has once again demonstrated that he is beyond forgiveness. But Van is not our enemy. Van is our guest, if not our comrade, and I implore all of you to treat him as such.”</p><p>He whispered something in a very stern tone. Van only heard the last word, which sounded like “consequences.” Then he said, “Understood?”</p><p>“Yes, Boss.”</p><p>“You can do better than that!”</p><p>“<em>Yes, Boss</em>!”</p><p>“<em>Very</em> good, everyone.” His tone was almost fatherly. “Why don’t you all start gathering for dinner?”</p><p>They began to whisper among themselves again. Allen’s bootsteps came closer until they were in the stables.</p><p>“Van, I know you’re in here.”</p><p>“Leave him alone!” Merle snapped.</p><p>“I’m not going to hurt him. Van, may I speak with you, please?”</p><p>Van lifted his head from his knees and opened his eyes. He got to his feet, brushing the broken pieces of wood off his behind and thighs.</p><p>“You look quite harried,” Allen said, frowning. “I have a good guess as to why. Is this something you wanted to hide from us?”</p><p>Van glared at him.</p><p>“I’ll take your silence as a ‘yes,’ and knowing you, I’m probably correct.” He folded his arms. “Now, tell me the truth about your country. Where are you really from?”</p><p>“Folken is my brother,” Van said flatly.</p><p>Allen’s eyes widened. “I… see. And because he’s been disgraced, that makes you the king?”</p><p>Van nodded just slightly.</p><p>“Is this true?” He looked down at Merle.</p><p>“It’s true.” She sniffled. “Please don’t hurt Lord Van! This is the first safe place we’ve found since we left Adom.”</p><p>“Merle!”</p><p>“Easy, you two. I would never let harm come to you or to Adom. I want to stop the Black Dragon Clan before they get to safe havens like Adom. In fact…” His eyes softened. There was that sincere look Van had seen on the night at the lake. In the mid-afternoon light, he could actually see just how blue Allen’s eyes were. “I want the Abaharaki to feel like a safe haven. There are no outcasts here. No one is permitted to judge anyone else’s background or heritage. Any behavior of that kind is completely unacceptable, and if any of my soldiers express such sentiments about you, please tell me so I can deliver the appropriate punishment.”</p><p>“Which would be…” Merle began to ask.</p><p>“Expulsion or death. That goes for anyone. A few years ago, someone harassed two of our men, who were in a relationship with each other at the time. I regret that I didn’t know he was so intolerant when I made the decision to accept him, but regardless, I took care of him.” He winked.</p><p>Merle shivered. “You <em>are</em> serious about this.”</p><p>“Of course I am. I can’t have a functional unit if everyone doesn’t get along, can I, now? Besides, acceptance is the enemy of intolerance—and that’s the man we’re fighting, an intolerant despot.”</p><p>He smiled. “You two have a good evening, hm? We should make it to Torushina in a few days. Make sure you rest up, Van. That wound still needs to heal.”</p><p>Then he was gone. Van couldn’t have offered a goodbye or thank you if he’d wanted to.</p><p>“<em>Whoa</em>. He’s awesome,” Merle said, her eyes still wide with awe.</p><p>Van could have said he hated him. He could have furrowed his brow and sneered. But after all of that, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, nor to be on edge at all. Allen’s reassurance had made him feel <em>warm</em> inside. It calmed him to think they really would accept him unconditionally. Would they, truly? Did he—could he—believe Allen’s words?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone continued to keep their distance from Van, though he saw no fear in their eyes. They were leaving him alone for the same reason they’d left him alone before, which was that he wanted to be left alone. Allen stopped bothering him after his wound healed. Kio and Reeden still brought extra food, even though he and Merle were in much better shape, even healthy now, and a few others, Gaddes among them, tried striking up friendly conversation. Van either ignored them or answered one or two questions to shut them up, but Merle always chatted away, even with the Moleman. He wasn’t a fighter, just a prophet, but he wasn’t solely their guest either. Allen had a great deal of respect for him, and the others talked to him and teased him like they would any of their own.</p>
<p>No one had any problem sitting next to Van at the dinner table, hunting with him, dressing the quarry, or even going for a quick spar. Even if they sometimes called him “Lord” Van now, everyone treated him as an equal, expressing neither reverence nor fear. They seemed to be relaxing in his presence, but he couldn’t do the same for them. It wasn’t that he was afraid of them, more that he realized they must be afraid of him now. They were just continuing to hide it because they were even more afraid of the consequences. But was that really true? The soldier Allen had “taken care of” must have known his commander’s policy of acceptance, yet he’d still bothered his comrades. If someone really had something nasty to say, they’d just say it anyway, right? No, what they’d said when they found out and thought Van hadn’t been listening evidenced their true feelings. They were just getting really good at hiding them. Yet no one was looking at him or making strange faces. They couldn’t have learned to keep up an act so quickly, could they?</p>
<p>He was relieved when Gaddes announced they would soon arrive in Torushina. Leaning out one of the windows toward the front of the caravan, he saw a huge city contained by circular walls. A giant black inverted pyramid floated overhead, beams of energy tethering it to the city walls. From this distance, he couldn’t see an entrance to the pyramid. Even as they got closer, it seemed impenetrable.</p>
<p>They stationed the caravan outside the city walls. Everyone walked outside and waited until Allen had joined them.</p>
<p>“What’s the plan, Boss?” Gaddes clapped him on the shoulder.</p>
<p>“Well, we can’t make much progress into the fortress without the Dragon Armor. So we need to know a little more about that.”</p>
<p>“We going to see Mr. Wise Guy?” Ort asked.</p>
<p>“Last time we stopped here, he said he was going on vacation,” Pyle said. “I think he’s made himself scarce.”</p>
<p>Allen smirked. “If Dryden’s on vacation, you know what that means. <em>We’re</em> taking a little holiday of our own.”</p>
<p>The men and Millerna cheered.</p>
<p>“I’m heading to the tavern!”</p>
<p>“Ree, you got your deck of cards?”</p>
<p>“I got mine. I think Pyle’s got the other one!”</p>
<p>“Princess, you got the key?”</p>
<p>“’Course I do.”</p>
<p>“That means the Boss has the cash!” Kio roared with laughter.</p>
<p>Van bared his teeth. Walking up to Allen, he grabbed him by the collar, ignoring Kio and Ort’s, “Whoa, kid!”</p>
<p>“What the hell is all <em>this</em> about?!”</p>
<p>Allen, who hadn’t been moved at all by Van tugging his collar, simply smiled down at him. “I get the sense you thought you’d be taking him out right away. And how were you planning to get to the entrance?”</p>
<p>“By flying up there, duh!”</p>
<p>Rage burned in his stomach and behind his eyes. He could feel the energy building in his mind just like before. Instead of directing it toward Allen, he channeled it backward, resulting in his wings bursting from his back, tearing his shirt in half.</p>
<p>Everyone gasped. Van let go of Allen’s jacket and stumbled backward. Though the energy had dissipated, the skin at the base of his wings had torn open, leaving a raw open wound and a drop of blood trickling down his back.</p>
<p>“Hold it, Van!” Gaddes clutched one of his daggers. “Don’t go anywhere. I don’t want to have to nail you from down here!”</p>
<p>Van made to begin a running start, but he was quickly tackled by Kio and Katz, who pinned him to the ground, his face landing in the dirt. He coughed on the dust that they’d kicked up.</p>
<p>“Let me go!” He tried pushing up against them. “You’re crushing my wings, damn it!”</p>
<p>“Come on, let Lord Van go!” Merle cried. Katz groaned as her foot collided with his legs.</p>
<p>“You’re not going anywhere,” Allen said firmly, coldly. “Do you think we’re just going to let you get killed? For lack of a kinder way to say it, please don’t be stupid.”</p>
<p>Van coughed. “Let me go!” He wanted anything but to think of Dune “playing rough,” but with his wings sandwiched between them and the sound of Allen’s stern voice, he couldn’t stop it coming to mind, and bitter tears prickled the corners of his eyes.</p>
<p>“Let him go already, Kio, the girl’s kicking me in the shins!”</p>
<p>Kio and Katz released their grip on Van, letting him free. Van stood up, retracting his wings and brushing his bangs away from his eyes. His neck and back hurt from being tackled and pinned. His throat felt tight. He tried thinking of anything except Dune.</p>
<p>“Captain, he’s still bleeding. Should I get something for his back?”</p>
<p>“Get him a fresh shirt as well, would you?” Allen said. “Thank you, Millerna.”</p>
<p>She dashed off toward the caravan.</p>
<p>“Why won’t you let me go?” Van said. His face mottled with heat again, but the rage behind his eyes had dissipated.</p>
<p>“There’s a psychic field around the fortress,” Reeden explained. “We tried flying a light aircraft into the thing. Just a little homemade model junk ship, you know?” He pointed to Teo. “Teo here made it.”</p>
<p>“Shattered into pieces,” Ort said.</p>
<p>“Instantly,” Katz said.</p>
<p>Teo shivered. “I wouldn’t want to see what it would do to us. Even with a bigger ship.”</p>
<p>“Or to Van,” Reeden added.</p>
<p>“But I have my suspicions,” Allen said. “What if the key is the Dragon Armor? Without it, it must be impossible to break through that psychic field. So?” He turned his gaze on Van. “Do you know anything we don’t know about the Dragon Armor?”</p>
<p>Millerna returned with the shirt and the bandages, walking behind Van to patch up the area where his skin had ruptured.</p>
<p>“Does this normally happen?” she whispered.</p>
<p>Van turned slightly over his shoulder. “No.” He faced Allen again. “The Dragon Armor descends when the Wing Goddess does. Its name is Escaflowne, and it thrives on the blood of dragon royalty. It can either save or destroy the world.”</p>
<p>“Royal blood?” Gaddes said. “We’ve got a prince! And he’s a dragon, no less!”</p>
<p>Allen nodded. “Yes. I believe we’ve found our key.”</p>
<p>Once Millerna had finished bandaging Van’s wound, she returned to stand among the others. Van slid the oversized sleeveless shirt over his head and arms, pulling the hem to his waist. Merle rushed to his side, lifting his shirt to check his wound before clinging to his arm.</p>
<p>“It seems we knew almost as much as you,” Allen said. “To that last point, I believe that may be why Folken also seeks Escaflowne. With Escaflowne, it’ll be possible for Van to break through his force field and kill him. But if it falls into his hands…”</p>
<p>Allen’s gaze turned to stone again. Van stayed silent and tense.</p>
<p>“We’re all history,” Gaddes finished. “So, Boss. We gotta keep looking for it.”</p>
<p>“No leads for now,” Allen said. “But I’m glad. With Van and the Dragon Armor, we’ll have a chance. We might have a way to Folken, in other words.”</p>
<p>Van’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Allen hadn’t revealed the truth to the rest of them.</p>
<p>He smirked. “Well, everyone? Can I find you all at the tavern after the sun sets?”</p>
<p>“That’s where I’m headed now.” Katz grinned at Pyle and Kio. “We’ll take Moleman along with us, ’less he wants to stay on the caravan.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be with ’em,” Gaddes said.</p>
<p>“Millie and I are going into town with Ort and Teo, right, Princess?” Reeden slung his arm over Millerna’s shoulders.</p>
<p>“Not only that, I’m taking Merle with me.” She winked at Merle.</p>
<p>Merle nestled into Van’s side. “Then I’m taking Lord Van along.”</p>
<p>Millerna smiled. “Actually, I think our fearless leader has something to say about that.”</p>
<p>“Indeed.” Allen met Van’s eyes. “You’re coming with me.”</p>
<p>Van scowled. “To your tavern?” He wasn’t eager about the prospect of going to some dark, dingy hole-in-the-wall where everyone would be drinking and smoking and betting money and whatever else happened in big cities.</p>
<p>“Better. You’ll see how to have a good time in this city.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>Merle reluctantly followed Millerna and the others, and Van went with Allen. Torushina was overwhelmingly human in population, though he saw a few beastpeople here and there. Most people looked like merchants or peasants, with only a few large houses standing on the outskirts of town. From this distance, the force field surrounding the fortress was perceptible; it distorted the air slightly, making Van shudder.</p>
<p>The Torushinians went about their daily business without noticing the giant black panel floating overhead. They were probably used to it, even to the spies that lurked among them. Van clenched his fists just thinking about it. No one could be safe, much less feel safe, here, not with Folken looming above them. Though he didn’t know the city or its people well yet, and he didn’t have any way to infiltrate the fortress, he wanted to liberate Torushina <em>now</em>. No one deserved to be beholden to the Black Dragon Clan.</p>
<p>“Loosen up a bit, why don’t you?” Allen said.</p>
<p>Van didn’t turn to look at him. <em>How can I?</em> he wanted to say, but didn’t.</p>
<p>“Easy for you to say,” he said instead.</p>
<p>Allen laughed. “Oh, Van.” He clicked his tongue, which made Van’s skin crawl like he had a rash. “Would a little levity kill you? I don’t know how you can stand to frown all the time.”</p>
<p>“What I really can’t stand is <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>Allen laughed again, quieter this time. “Really? I don’t think you would have even come along if that were the case.”</p>
<p>“Well, it is! Everything you do and say just pisses me off. You act like you have all of Gaea in your hands. But you’re just pretending you have your shit together.”</p>
<p>“You’re certainly one to talk.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Van glared at him. “I’m not the one parading around with my head up my ass!”</p>
<p>Allen laughed a third time, harder, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “I’m so flattered you think so highly of me, <em>Lord</em> Van.”</p>
<p>Van grumbled. Even though Allen didn’t seem wounded at all by what he’d said, he felt better getting that off his chest. Just thinking it all the time was probably what had made all that psychic energy build up inside him.</p>
<p>“I suppose I’m so used to it that I don’t realize how it might make someone uncomfortable,” Allen said. He gestured to the streets of the city, the Torushinians milling about and talking to each other. “But there’s a lot going on. It’s quite different from remote places like Nordrach and Adom.”</p>
<p>“Do you come here often?”</p>
<p>Allen smirked. “You delivered that like a natural.”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. We do come here often. You could call it our base of operations, or at least a temporary home. More importantly, our benefactor lives here.”</p>
<p>“Your benefactor?”</p>
<p>“A native by the name of Dryden, who also happens to be a millionaire.”</p>
<p>“He gave all that money to a little group of rebels?”</p>
<p>“We’re not as little as you think. We’ve got spies just about everywhere, and other factions traveling independently of the caravan. Folken’s heard of us, and he’s not happy. We’re wanted outlaws here in Torushina. But our will to resist is a lot stronger than his will to strike us down.” He winked. “Isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Van said nothing. It was becoming clearer just how many risks the Abaharaki took in resisting Folken and the Black Dragon Clan. He followed Allen toward the heart of the city.</p>
<p>“Have you ever been to a place like this?” Allen gestured to a circular structure in front of them. They were approaching the entrance. It was directly underneath the point of the black pyramid, like a bullseye in the middle of Torushina.</p>
<p>“It’s an arena,” Allen explained. “There’s a tournament going on.”</p>
<p>They pushed their way inside. Van followed him past the entryway ticket booth and into the stands. They sat in the mezzanine seats, crammed next to each other as the crowd filled in. All around them, people were talking about betting on this and that and who was going to win what fight. The rancid odor of sweat was overpowering, and the chatter rang in his ears.</p>
<p>“The first fight’s about to start!” Allen passed some coins into Van’s palm, and they clicked together as he closed his fist around them. “Play me?”</p>
<p>“Play yourself. I’m not wasting money on whatever this is.”</p>
<p>Allen turned to the man next to him and struck up a conversation. Then they looked down on the arena. Silence fell through the crowd as a man standing on the watchtower, who looked like an ant at this distance, announced the combatants in the first battle. Then he bellowed, “Fight!” and the crowd erupted with excitement. Van curled his shoulders inward, wincing when Allen yelled the name of one of the fighters. His head was beginning to pound, blood pulsing in his ears, and the wound on his back still ached.</p>
<p>In the middle of the flat ground, two muscular ants clad in black armor clashed their needle-like swords. When one ant knocked another to the ground, gasps and cries ran through the crowd.</p>
<p>“Oh, <em>no</em>!” Allen cried. Then, to the guy next to him, “He won last month. I was sure he would pull another upset, but gone in the first round?”</p>
<p>His neighbor laughed. “Pay up!”</p>
<p>“All right, this is yours! But I’ll get the next one!” Allen leaned over the rails, clutching them with both hands. “<em>Get him</em>!”</p>
<p>Van watched the ants charge at each other, locking and unlocking their blades. The skinny, fast guy from the last fight overtook his shorter, slower opponent.</p>
<p>“Yes! I was right this time!” Allen turned to his neighbor. Van looked up, only to see the man had gone.</p>
<p>“Damn! Thought I was keeping a good enough eye on him.” He reached into his purse again, unfolding his fingers to reveal glimmering coins, then hiding them again. Then he faced Van with an exhilarated smile. “Well? Change your mind?”</p>
<p>All of a sudden, the pressure in Van’s head subsided. The irritation he’d felt earlier when Allen had dragged him along had faded. Looking at Allen smiling and enjoying himself like this, he almost felt like he wanted to join in on the fun.</p>
<p>What?! He shook his head. <em>Ridiculous</em>! What had he been thinking? Wanting to join in, like he was <em>enjoying</em> his time with Allen? Ugh, of <em>course</em> he wasn’t—he was as insufferable as ever!</p>
<p>“Of course not! Keep your money!” He folded his arms, turning back toward the fight.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought! For a moment I saw something change in your eyes, like you were about to make a bet. Guess it was just a trick of the light, hm?” He patted Van on the shoulder. “Well, we’ll be here all afternoon. You’ve got plenty of time to change your mind!”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>“We’ve got a permanent reservation,” Allen said. The sun had begun to set, painting the cobblestone and the houses orange and pink. After the screams and shouts of the crowd that had grated on his ears, the quiet early evening streets seemed oddly serene. “It’s our own room. So there’s no need to worry about spies.”</p>
<p>The tavern was dark. People were yelling, laughing, and slapping tables. On the stage, a band played loudly, an accordion wailing, a flute shrieking. The rotten smell of alcohol lingered, and the smoke made Van cough a little and long for clear mountain air. They snuck upstairs until they’d reached the balcony, where Allen knocked on the door three times and whispered “Resist” in the crack of the door.</p>
<p>“Welcome back, Boss, Van,” Gaddes said, gesturing them inside.</p>
<p>“Just in time for dinner,” Pyle said, looking up from the table. Everyone had made it, even the Moleman. That included Merle, who called Van’s name and rushed to his side. Though he didn’t return her embrace, after spending the whole afternoon with Allen, he was as relieved to see her as she was to see him.</p>
<p>Katz gestured to the food spread across the table. “Sit down and serve yourself.”</p>
<p>“Don’t mind if I do,” Allen said, sitting down on one of the open chairs. Van seated himself between Teo and Merle, then began to spoon food onto his plate.</p>
<p>“Any preferences for booze?” Gaddes asked. “Gotta put an order in now before the evening crowd gets here.”</p>
<p>“Probably best if we get a few pitchers and fill up our own glasses,” Allen suggested.</p>
<p>“Agreed. Beer or wine?”</p>
<p>Everyone around the table laughed.</p>
<p>“Give me a break,” Millerna said. “You’re asking us that?”</p>
<p>Gaddes winked. “Thought the Boss might change his mind.”</p>
<p>“We drank that barrel of wine on the caravan to the last drop,” Allen said. “I say it’s time for a change.”</p>
<p>“I’ll put it in with the barfly.” Gaddes pretended to write the order down on a notepad, then left.</p>
<p>Dinner passed by quickly, mostly in silence only because everyone was too busy stuffing their faces. Gaddes returned a few minutes later with the pitchers of beer and a few pitchers of water, and he started to pour glasses for everyone around the table, including Van and Merle.</p>
<p>Merle took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, it’s so bitter!”</p>
<p>“I’ll take that,” Millerna said, grabbing Merle’s glass from across the table. “Teo, can you pass her some of that water?”</p>
<p>Van cleaned his plate, then sat back in his chair. The glass was just barely foamy at the top. It smelled rotten. He didn’t think he would like it if Merle had turned up her nose at it. Not that he wanted to bother.</p>
<p>“You haven’t touched your glass either,” Allen observed, his utensils clinking as he set them on the plate. “Why don’t you give it a try? Maybe you’ll like it, even if Merle doesn’t.”</p>
<p>“Haven’t you had alcohol before?” Millerna propped her chin on her closed fist. “You might be a little dizzy for a bit, but you’ll get used to it.”</p>
<p>“He’s of age,” Gaddes said. “Maybe he just doesn’t like it? Some folks don’t.”</p>
<p>“Look at him. He ain’t no saint or nun or whatever,” Ort said, elbowing Gaddes.</p>
<p>“The hell you mean ‘nun,’ you idiot?” Reeden made a face as Pyle erupted with laughter. “A nun is a woman. The guy’s called a monk.”</p>
<p>“Nun, monk, same difference—you get what I mean. Kid’s like us. Rough around the edges enough to have drank once in his life.”</p>
<p>“I’m not like you,” Van grumbled. “I’m not like <em>any</em> of you.”</p>
<p>Gaddes furrowed his brow. Then he slammed his fist on the table. The glasses and plates rang, and Merle and Teo flinched. “You know what? I’m sick of your ‘too good for everyone’ bullshit. I know that’s not really what you think, so just shut your trap and lift that glass.”</p>
<p>“I don’t have to get along with you or be your <em>friends </em>or anything else you want. I’m only here because I have to be. So just leave me <em>alone</em>!”</p>
<p>Feeling another pulsing headache coming on, Van shoved his chair back so that it crashed onto the floor, turning on his heel and kicking it out of his way. He stormed toward the back door, running up the staircase until he came to a stone balcony. Sitting down, he leaned his head against the edge of the balcony. The stone still had some of the warmth of the day, but it was getting colder now that the sun had set. His headache began to fade as the rock cracked right in his ear. Leaning his head back up, he focused instead on the pillar in front of him, felt the energy pulse through him, and watched as it broke apart, leaving his head feeling empty.</p>
<p>“Hey, Van?”</p>
<p>Van didn’t turn around, though he knew it was Gaddes.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry I said that. The Boss—not just him. Me and the guys, and Millerna. We all want you to feel like a part of the group. I know it’s not about the beer, but I don’t <em>know </em>what it’s about. We just want you to join in our fun. So? Won’t you come on back in?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Well…” He sounded like he hadn’t expected that answer. “Fine. But if you decide you want to join us, there’s still a spot at the table for you.”</p>
<p>Gaddes walked away, back down the steps to the banquet room. Van leaned his head back against the cracked pillar, breathing out a silent sigh through his nose. His mission was a solitary one. He didn’t <em>need </em>them to find Escaflowne and destroy Folken—the only other person he needed was the Wing Goddess. He didn’t even know who the Wing Goddess was, but once she descended, he was sure he’d know. Besides, they all still distrusted him deep down. Now that they knew he was a dragon, they would turn on him. If they couldn’t get to Folken, they’d just kill him instead.</p>
<p>The door creaked again. Bootsteps clumped on the stone balcony. Allen cleared his throat.</p>
<p>“You’re not going to attack me, are you?”</p>
<p>Van said nothing. Allen walked over and sat next to him, the toes of his boots pressed to the stone pillars, looking straight ahead rather than at him. He bent his knees up, placing one elbow on one knee and steadying himself against the stone floor with his other hand.</p>
<p>“I was just kidding,” he said. He almost sounded ashamed.</p>
<p>They were silent for a moment.</p>
<p>“There was a time I felt alone, too,” Allen began. “My parents and my sister died when Nordrach was destroyed. I was so alone back then. I thought I could make it on my own, just stealing from people and looking for leads on the Black Dragon Clan. I was a stupid kid.” He laughed, quiet and bitter. “I wanted Folken’s head on a pole. What I <em>needed</em> was someone to love and accept me, just like my family had done for me.</p>
<p>“People come together because they are alone. Because they understand each other’s plight. Without each other, we fail to understand the warmth of love and acceptance. Our loneliness is not Folken’s fault.”</p>
<p>Van scoffed. “Folken is the reason <em>I’m</em> alone. He and I are the last of our country, perhaps of our kind.” He opened his eyes. Allen still stared out through the bars of the balcony. “When I kill him, I will be the only one remaining.”</p>
<p>“Is Folken really the reason? Or is it you?”</p>
<p>Van’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach.</p>
<p>“You’re the one shutting everyone out, not him. It is true that the more countries Folken destroys, the fewer people survive. But you’ve stayed with us. You’ve fought alongside us. What reason is there to push us aside now?”</p>
<p>Allen lowered his head, closing his eyes. “You are not just another ally to me, Van. None of them are. My soldiers are not my ‘men’; they are my family, and I value you just as I value all of them.” He paused. “We’ve accepted you. Now I want you to accept us. I know you have room in your heart for us, so let us in.”</p>
<p><em>I don’t want to be part of your family</em>, was on the tip of Van’s tongue, but he didn’t say it. Somehow, he no longer truly believed that.</p>
<p>“Is your wound doing better, at least?”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Van said. He averted his eyes, staring at the stone floor to the left of him. Allen got up and left him sitting there.</p>
<p>A few minutes passed. Van repressed the urge to cry, again. More pressure was building behind his eyes, but he really didn’t want to blow up any more pillars.</p>
<p>“Lord Van?”</p>
<p>Merle’s claws clicked on the stone as she approached him. She didn’t cling to him, only sat on her haunches in front of him, her tail waving in concern.</p>
<p>“Lord Van.” She looked down, frowning. “Do you want to leave and go home?”</p>
<p>He swallowed. “What makes you think that?”</p>
<p>“I just thought maybe you missed Adom like me. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I get sick of all these humans!” Lifting her head again, she rolled her eyes with a groan. “At least you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do if I’d ended up with this lot alone.”</p>
<p>“Well—” He stopped, choking on his words. He groaned, clutching his head and clenching his teeth.</p>
<p>“You don’t look good! Are you going to blow something up with your mind again?” She scampered aside. “Do whatever you want, just as long as you don’t hit me!”</p>
<p>Closing his eyes, he let the pressure slowly fade. A light breeze blew his bangs away from his face. When he opened his eyes, Merle had returned to her spot.</p>
<p>“What happened?” she said. “That was nothing like the first time.”</p>
<p>He sighed. “I need to learn to control it. I don’t have anyone with my powers to teach me, so I have to learn on my own.” He reached for his back. “That wound was a result of holding back my power. If I hadn’t, Allen could have been seriously hurt.”</p>
<p>“You held back your power for Allen’s sake?” She gasped, folding her hands over her heart. “Lord Van…”</p>
<p>“So?” he said, though he knew why her eyes were shining. “I might hate his guts, but I don’t have any reason to kill him.”</p>
<p>“Oh, boo!” She blew a raspberry. “I agree, he can be annoying. But you don’t hate him. You like him a lot! You like him and everyone else here.”</p>
<p>“Whatever,” he mumbled. Heat was blooming in his cheeks. “I’m just here because I need to be. I don’t have to bond with them or whatever they want me to do.”</p>
<p>“Really?” She pouted. “I wanted to play ‘blackjack,’ whatever that is. Millerna said we get to bet real money! I really want to play!”</p>
<p>“I’ve bet enough money for one day.”</p>
<p>She curled her lip. “Just what did you do with Allen?”</p>
<p>“Some stupid thing where we went to that big circular building. There were people everywhere. I felt another headache coming on all afternoon. I thought I was going to explode, but it was strange. Nothing happened.”</p>
<p>“Maybe we need more crates or something for you to blow up.”</p>
<p>“No, I’ll eventually learn to control it. Dune was the same way when his powers first awakened, much earlier than mine.” Van massaged his brow.</p>
<p>“Hey, are you two going to sit outside all night?”</p>
<p>Van turned to look at Millerna. She stood in the doorway.</p>
<p>“We’re betting,” she said, flashing a handful of coins. “Allen wants you two at the table. Me too.”</p>
<p>Merle started to turn toward him, but he stood up. “Let’s go back in, Merle.”</p>
<p>—</p>
<p>Millerna slapped her cards back on top of the deck. “That was close! Eighteen and nineteen!”</p>
<p>“You should have seen the last round,” Kio said. “We finished it up while you were out getting them two.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, Ree almost had twenty-one, he decided to hold, then Pyle drew an ace.” Ort laughed. Imitating Reeden’s voice, he said, “‘Damn my bad luck!’”</p>
<p>“I still haven’t won,” Reeden whined. “Pyle’s on a winning streak. Someone’s gotta take him down. Moleman, can’t you predict who’s gonna win next?”</p>
<p>“Pyle will come down from his streak soon,” the Moleman said, looking down at his cards through his spectacles.</p>
<p>“Hah! I knew it!” Reeden said. “I’m next!”</p>
<p>“Let me play!” Merle butted in next to Reeden. “I’ll help you figure out your bet!”</p>
<p>“Not so fast! Get your own hand, Merle.” He elbowed her. “Gaddes, pass me the pitcher, would ya?”</p>
<p>“Sure thing, though I think you’re on your fifth glass. Probably has a lot to do with your losing streak!”</p>
<p>“Don’t got a damn thing to do with it,” Katz said. “Ree just sucks!”</p>
<p>Reeden grumbled. “I swear I’m an old pro!”</p>
<p>Having finished pouring Reeden’s beer, Gaddes set the pitcher down. He looked up, meeting Van’s eyes across the table. “You want to take over for me?”</p>
<p>Van looked over at Allen. He was smiling, content, shuffling the deck.</p>
<p>“No thanks,” he said. “I’d rather just watch.”</p>
<p>Gaddes scoffed, then he smiled. “That’s the most polite reply I’ve ever gotten out of you.”</p>
<p>“Sam,” Allen said gently, reproachfully.</p>
<p>Gaddes looked sheepish. “Come on, Al—Boss! Do you have to call me that in front of all them?”</p>
<p>“Gaddes really did it,” Ort said, in the tone that a seven-year-old kid would use when his friend got in trouble. Turning to Van, he “whispered,” “‘Sam’ is Gaddes’ first name, but he don’t go by it anymore. The boss only calls him that when he’s in deep shit.”</p>
<p>“What about ‘Ree’?” Merle said from across the table, head buried in her cards.</p>
<p>“I came up with ‘Ree.’” Ort shrugged. “And Ree came up with ‘Millie,’ though I came up with ‘Princess.’ And you know what I call you?”</p>
<p>“‘The kid’?” Van was about to say, but he was interrupted by Reeden.</p>
<p>“Forget whatever you call ’im, I’m gonna call <em>you</em> ‘Empty Pockets,’ ’cause you’re about to lose all your cash to me. Twenty-one, baby. Pay up.”</p>
<p>Everyone groaned. Merle giggled. The Moleman flashed a smile at Van, his spectacles shimmering, and Allen grinned a genuine grin.</p>
<p>Van felt something like a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Though he covered his mouth and furrowed his brow before anyone could say anything, it was too late. Warmth spread through his entire being, the last fragments of pressure in his head dissolving with everyone laughing and grinning from ear to ear around him, and he knew, in that moment, that he belonged here, belonged with them.</p>
<p>“Actually, Van, I don’t call you much of anything,” Ort said after the round was over. “But I’m sure glad to call you my friend.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A spy gave them a lead on a beast village that the Black Dragon Clan planned to target. After one hell of a hangover, they all got to their feet and made their way out of Torushina and into the caravan. Van stowed himself away in the stables with Merle again. To try and ease the rage that led to losing control over his powers, he’d taken his pocketknife and a piece of wood from the busted crate and started whittling. It really wasn’t turning out well, but he’d been out of practice for a month or so. At least his hands weren’t shaking as much as they’d used to.</p><p>“Shut himself up again, just like that,” Pyle said from the next room. “Katz, pass me that board?”</p><p>“He’s keeping busy,” was Katz’s reply. “He’ll be right back at it again once we get to this village.”</p><p>“I guess he really just isn’t all that social.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter. He gets along with us, in his own way.”</p><p>Van paused in his whittling. He breathed a sigh out his nose before he continued.</p><p>They arrived a few days later. There was already a huge black airship hovering above the village. Soldiers clad in black strode the perimeter with swords and lances in hand. The village hadn’t been burnt to the ground, so they must have been waiting for Folken’s command. That, or the villagers were putting up a good fight.</p><p>“What do you think, Boss?” Gaddes asked. “They’re already occupying it. Do you think they’re preparing to burn it?”</p><p>“Our source told us they’re locked in a stalemate. They were likely warned to militarize by the other beast villages in the area. I’ve also been told there’s a saboteur within the Black Dragon Clan by the name of Jajuka going behind Folken’s back to supply the villagers. Apparently, he’s a high-ranking officer. I think we’re looking at his last gasp at resistance.”</p><p>“Shame we don’t have a lead on him, huh?” Ort folded his arms. “If he defected, he’d be a fountain of knowledge for us.”</p><p>“If Folken realizes one of his best men has defected, he’ll kill him,” Van said. “Folken is ruthless. He’s not going to just let this officer go.”</p><p>“Van is right,” Allen said. “He’ll have to stay very secretive about his efforts and continue to curry favor with Folken. I doubt we’ll see him here today.”</p><p>“But we’ve got to help him.” Van spared a glance across the room, where Merle stood in the corner listening. Folken was going to capture everyone in the village and make them into his soldiers, just like the hyenas they’d faced in Van’s first fight. Either that, or he’d crush them.</p><p>“We can do no less,” Allen said. “All right, listen up.”</p><p>Everyone except Van and Merle straightened their spines.</p><p>“Our goal today is to liberate this village. First, kill the guards and infiltrate the village. Aid the resistance effort by killing as many soldiers as you can. If you’re in an area where the resistance is sequestered in their homes, you’ll want to give this signal.” Allen put two fingers in his mouth and whistled two sharp, high-pitched notes.</p><p>“Drive out the Black Dragon Clan and free any captives. Finally, tend to injuries and casualties. After that, I’ll give Katz the signal, and we’ll make our getaway.”</p><p>“So I’m staying on board?” Katz said.</p><p>At Allen’s nod, he bowed his head with an “Understood!”</p><p>“Everyone else, we’ll be working in pairs. Except Merle and the Moleman—you’re staying here with Katz.”</p><p>Van was paired with Teo. Evidently, Allen had tried to evenly split the long-range and close-range fighters, pairing a swordfighter like Van with Teo, who was an archer. With so many archers, including Van himself, taking out the guards was easy. The archers, and those who wielded knives and daggers, positioned themselves a fair distance from the village perimeter, in front of each of the four entrances to the village, and stuck the guards with weapons. Whenever a way into the village was cleared, a pair of partners snuck in on foot.</p><p>Van and Teo came in through the west entrance. The streets were narrow and paved in dirt. The houses were guarded by soldiers clad in black armor, who rushed to defend their posts once they caught sight of their opponents. Since the streets were so narrow, Van took the lead, cutting down the soldier he faced and twisting around to end another who already had an arrow buried in his shoulder. With the first two guards down, Van licked his lips and whistled the signal.</p><p>The barricades on the doors behind them burst open, and three beastmen wielding swords joined them. On the opposite entrance, where Gaddes and Millerna led the charge, the signal echoed, followed by the cries and shouts of war.</p><p>Before, each house had only been guarded by one soldier, but now they were surrounded by more men clad in black. Van aimed for their necks and stomachs, keeping an eye on Teo and their resistance comrades. Though they were great in number, the villagers were inexperienced, not nearly as quick and powerful as the professional Abaharaki soldiers. One man screamed beside him when a Black Dragon Clan soldier speared him with a lance. Van punched the soldier in the cheek, and right when he withdrew his fist, an arrow whizzed past his face and pierced the man’s skull.</p><p>“There’s so damn many of them I’m gonna run out of arrows!” Teo grumbled, yanking an arrow free from a soldier that had fallen at his feet. As he stood up, he elbowed a man standing behind him in the gut, causing him to drop his spear with a clank.</p><p>Dropping his left hand from the hilt of his sword, Van scooped up the spear and ran the enemy soldier through with it, then handed it to Teo. “Good thing there’re plenty of other weapons around here.”</p><p>“Van, behind you!”</p><p>Van whirled around and blocked the incoming strike. Pushing back against his opponent’s blade, he broke the tension, then ended him with a fatal blow to the neck. Beside him, one of the villagers kneed his opponent in the stomach, then pushed him to the ground, slitting his throat with a knife. They were nearing the center of the village, and the villagers continued to pour out of their houses. Most windows remained barricaded, but in the top windows of some houses, children leaned out, cheering for their parents and siblings or blowing raspberries and spitting at their foes. One little girl even threw metal toys at one soldier, giggling as they bounced off his helmet with sharp clinks.</p><p>But then the soldier turned toward the girl and nocked an arrow. “I can’t stand little brats like that!”</p><p>“What are you thinking?” one of his comrades cried.</p><p>“Have you lost your senses?!” Another comrade reached for the soldier’s bow arm to try to impede his shot.</p><p>“Grown or not, they’re still our enemies!” the soldier said, trying to push his comrades away.</p><p>Van, still locked in combat with another soldier, gritted his teeth in fury. Even if the soldier’s comrades were trying to sway him, <em>he</em> wasn’t going to wait for him to change his mind.</p><p>“Teo! Get him!” he shouted.</p><p>One of the villagers had lent Teo an extra dagger and he hurled it at the soldier, hitting him square in the shoulder. Van cut his opponent in the shoulder and then stabbed him in the stomach. Just as he fell, a man ran out of the house with an axe in hand and swung it at the soldier who’d aimed at the girl, beheading him. His two remaining comrades attempted to retreat, but the resistance fighter wailed on them, and Van closed his eyes, his stomach twisting with an emotion he couldn’t name. The villagers cheered, and the fighter breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>The fighter turned to Van with a smile. “Thank you for saving her,” he said.</p><p>Van nodded, then turned to Teo and gave him a nod. He didn’t have any time to think about what he’d felt when the fighter had cut down the offending soldier’s comrades. There was no time to feel sorry for anyone on the battlefield, and especially not their enemies.</p><p>All of the villagers were facing them. Though they’d cut down every soldier in the street, more mingled in the center of the village. Up ahead, he glimpsed the swish of Millerna’s long brown ponytail; the colorful shirts, rusted armor, and varied weapons of the resistance army; and the uniforms of the Black Dragon Clan.</p><p>“Charge!” Van commanded, and they shouted a war cry and stormed the center of the town.</p><p>The villagers shouted with joy at the sight of their neighbors, and rushed right into battle against the remaining Black Dragon Clan members. Though any member of the Abaharaki was ending more soldiers than twenty villagers combined, the added might of the resistance army helped not only fight off but divert the attention of their enemy. Sweat soaking his hair and rolling down his back, Van watched the fight unfold around him, blood pulsing in his ears, heart pounding in his chest. The villagers all fought for the same goal. Pride and anger shone in their eyes, and when they were knocked to the ground, they stood up, none of that will to defend their own having dissipated. This was their home, and they were fighting to protect it.</p><p>Van hadn’t been able to do the same back when Syllandria burned. So he’d be damned if he let this village fall. Damned if Folken claimed another country for its own and made its people his puppets.</p><p>Adrenaline roaring in his veins, hot rage building behind his eyes, he threw himself into the fray, brandishing his sword with the same ardor with which he’d begun the fight. He was beginning to lose count of how many he’d cut down—not that he’d even been counting—when his back bumped up against a familiar mane of long hair. He twisted around and saw Allen, who pushed back against the thin blade of his opponent’s spear, cracking the wood in half with the force and cutting him from his temple down to his collarbone.</p><p>“Van!” Allen said breathlessly, offering him a quick grin. Then, pointing to his left with his thumb, “Millerna!”</p><p>Van turned and saw Millerna locked in a duel with a particularly large soldier. Their swords clashed again and again, and Millerna was beginning to falter, bending her legs to try and push back against him. Running toward her, Van stabbed the soldier in the side, though as he did a knife suddenly landed in his left arm, and he bent over, biting his lip hard to repress the cry of pain. Another shock of pain shot through him as Millerna yanked the dagger free. She handed it to him with a weary smile. He stood back up, launched the dagger, and pierced the shoulder of a soldier aiming an arrow at Pyle.</p><p>“Nice one!” Millerna said. “Ort needs backup!”</p><p> Over where Ort was, a soldier had lifted a young resistance fighter by the throat, attempting to strangle him. Van kicked his knees to throw him off balance. The soldier let go of his target, who fell to the ground lifelessly.</p><p>“What the hell are you trying?” Van snarled, pinning the soldier to the ground with his arm on his shoulder and knee in his chest. He slugged him hard in the eye, then hit him again in the cheek, tearing the cowl away from his face. “Well? Aren’t you going to speak up for yourself?”</p><p>“What is your problem?” the soldier gasped, his bottom lip quivering, his eyes wide. Along with the metallic smells of blood and steel, he smelled of the astringent odor of piss. “You’re even more bloodthirsty than the kid!”</p><p>“Bloodthirsty?” Van punched him again, square in the other eye. “Don’t make me laugh! He was just trying to protect his own. Trying to survive! And you’re trying to wipe them all out!”</p><p>On the last word, he punched the soldier in the jaw again. His eyes were beginning to bruise, his arms flailing to try and hit Van. Van’s mouth was watering like in the first battle, but instead of feeling like he was going to throw up, he felt a weird thrill in his gut. Laughing, he punched the soldier again and again, grinning eagerly whenever his fist collided with his face, a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins when the soldier’s front teeth cracked. Then the chest underneath his knee suddenly stopped rising and falling, and a trickle of blood ran from the soldier’s busted nose down his cheek and into his ear.</p><p>With a whimper, Van blinked himself back to reality, like he was entering his body again. There was a numb buzz behind his forehead. His ears rang with the clanging of weapons around him, his nose stinging with the smells of dried blood and stale urine. His knuckles felt raw, and the soldier’s face looked like one giant bloody bruise. Van choked on the bile climbing up his throat, goosebumps surfacing on his bare arms and legs. Backing away from the corpse, he turned his attention back to the soldier’s victim.</p><p>The bruising on his neck was intense. He leaned close. The villager was still breathing. If he stayed in the fray, he might get trampled. But if Van took the time to drag him out of the fray, one of the Abaharaki could get hurt. The fighter who had beheaded that soldier with an axe had been protecting his child. This boy was probably someone’s brother. His father was probably in the fight. He might even be someone’s younger brother.</p><p>Tending to the casualties was supposed to happen after the battle. But this boy was still breathing. And after what he’d done to the soldier, Van felt obligated to save the boy.</p><p>Hoisting the boy over his left shoulder, Van stayed low and rushed out of the center of the action. But just as he reached the edge of the fray, a soldier engaged him. With only one arm free, he struggled to fend off the soldier. The blade was coming closer and closer to his face, his heart pounding in his throat, but he continued to push back with all the strength he could manage.</p><p>Then an arrow pierced the soldier in the neck, and he fell to the ground.</p><p>“What’s the big idea?” Ort shouted. “Drop the kid on your shoulder!”</p><p>“Like hell I’ll do that!” Van spat.</p><p>A soldier swung his lance at Ort, and he dodged it and dug a dagger into the man, who fell lifeless to the ground. “The boss is in danger…” Van could only hear some of what came next, though he clearly saw the panicked look on Ort’s face and heard, “I can’t get in there!”</p><p>Though Van’s stomach twisted with pain and shame, he knelt to the ground to let the body down. No. He couldn’t. He wasn’t going to let the boy he’d saved die from people stepping all over him. Though the blood from the wound on his arm had already soaked into the boy’s shirt, he flung him back over his shoulder and charged toward the center of the action with his sword in his right hand.</p><p>“We’ll back you up!” he heard behind him. Two villagers ran alongside him, engaging enemy soldiers when he had to press forward. He turned around briefly, intending to help them, but they waved him on. Allen’s blonde hair was coming into view, but before he could get to Allen, he was interrupted by a soldier charging at him.</p><p>“You’re not getting to the boss!” the soldier hissed.</p><p>Van met the soldier’s blade, pushing up to maintain the tension. Their blades unlocked and the soldier tried going for the limp boy on Van’s shoulder, but Van pivoted sideways to guard the boy with his right arm, the blade hovering just above the wound on his left arm. When he finally pushed the blade away, the soldier went for his neck, but Van twisted to avoid the attempt. The blow landed on his right shoulder, ripping his shirt. Energy was building behind Van’s eyes, but now wasn’t the time to unleash the powers of his mind, so instead he channeled his anger into a powerful strike. The soldier dodged him, but another resistance fighter cut in and struck the man down.</p><p>“Thanks,” Van said.</p><p>The villager nodded, then pointed to the boy on his shoulder.</p><p>“You know him? Can you take him somewhere safe?”</p><p>The villager smiled warmly and held out his arms, so Van unloaded the boy off his left shoulder and into the villager’s arms. The villager hoisted the boy onto his shoulder, then pointed to Allen. Van made for Allen, though when he’d reached the center of the action and looked briefly over his shoulder for his helper, he was gone. He hoped both the boy and his helper would make it out all right.</p><p>Allen was up against a huge man that had to be the commander. Their blades were locked, and Allen was struggling to hold back his enemy, bare hands spaced apart across his sword. Before Van could tell Allen to step back and that he’d handle it, the man stepped back. His giant hands gripped the hilt of his sword, and underneath his black cowl, he flashed a devilish, toothy smile, moving his blade back and aiming for Allen’s stomach—</p><p>The energy in Van’s mind seemed to congeal and solidify, a chill shooting up his spine.</p><p>Rage burned behind his eyes. Bile burned in his throat. And a fire was lit in his heart.</p><p>
  <em>Die!</em>
</p><p>A forceful pulse rocketed across the dirt and hit the commander, knocking him to the ground. Allen stumbled backward, turning his head toward Van, his mouth agape. Van breathed heavily, looking at the fallen man. His head felt empty of energy, emptier than usual, and blood was still trickling down his arm from his shoulder. Then he collapsed, blacking out completely.</p><p>—</p><p>Everything in sight was green. The barren plains flourished with grass, and trees sprouted around him, flush with the verdant hues of summer. A warm breeze tickled his skin, and he felt the chill of freshly-painted tattoos on his shoulders and cheeks. Elders crooned their stories in distant huts, the aroma of spiced incense rising in ribbons from the open entryways. Children clapped their hands in casual games, their high-pitched laughter and screams echoing in the valley. The creek was bubbling quietly, and the sun shone its rays so brightly that he had to squint when he came out from under the shade of the trees.</p><p>“Lord Van?” He heard her gentle voice before he saw her, turning around to face her. “We’re taking the bread out of the oven, and I rode out to the orchard to pick some fresh apples. Are you going to come in for lunch?”</p><p>Before he could take her extended hand, he blinked and he was not only considerably shorter, but back in Syllandria, inside the castle. The oracle shone its pink light in his eyes. He clasped his hands and looked on it reverently.</p><p>A mysterious voice rang in his head. <em>You, Van, of the Holy Kingdom of Syllandria, and of the royal lineage of the Dragon Clan, will become the next king of your nation.</em></p><p>He turned around. Father, Mother, and Dune were all looking down at him. Then Mother and Father disappeared, evaporating into darkness. Dune lunged at him, and his hands morphed into shadowy claws as he lifted Van, his mouth opening wide with laughter. Dune’s face came right toward him, and he shut his eyes with a scream.</p><p>He saw everything, even if it was only dim flickers of memories. The buildings falling to ash. The castle up in flames. Mother groaning, bleeding to death, and Father sliced to pieces by his own son. And Dune, laughing, laughing. Always laughing.</p><p>“No!”</p><p>The word tore itself from Van’s throat. The darkness swirling around him suddenly faded with a snap, and he was back on the caravan, sitting at the dinner table with Allen, Merle, and the rest. Kio, Ort, Katz, Millerna, Reeden, Pyle, Teo, Gaddes, and even the Moleman were all there. Laughing, joking, and nudging each other, passing the food around and nursing glasses of beer. From across the table, Allen was smiling at him, with that genuine look shining in his soft blue eyes, and then he turned to Merle as she nudged him, and she met his eyes with a smile.</p><p>He blinked, and it was all gone. Everything was darker than night. He heard a man choking to death, felt his fist colliding with a soldier’s skull. His own laughter rang in his head, then it morphed into Dune’s bitter, sharp laugh as he pinned Van to the ground, tearing feathers from his wings. It was the last sound to fade, just before he heard, very faintly, a woman’s voice.</p><p>
  <em>…fade away…</em>
</p><p>Van tried reaching out for the voice, but he—his body—wasn’t there.</p><p>
  <em>…just fade away…</em>
</p><p>Huh? No! Was this—was he dying? He wasn’t about to fade away. Not before he’d killed Folken. There were still other things left to do, too. He needed to wake up. He needed to see them all again, Merle, Allen, and all of them.</p><p>—</p><p>Van awoke lying in a flat wooden bed, his arm draped across his forehead. Forcing his eyes open, he turned to the side to see Merle perched on a barrel beside him.</p><p>“Lord Van, you’re awake!” Merle sighed in relief. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up!”</p><p>His shoulder was throbbing. He reached over to touch it, then felt the pinch in his left arm, and noticed the wound bandaged there.</p><p>He squinted at her. “Where is everyone?” He tried to sit up, but the room spun around him. Groaning, he fell back on the bed, his head lightly hitting the pillow. His head and stomach felt empty. Then he smelled something that made his stomach cramp even more.</p><p>“Someone bring me dinner?”</p><p>“You’ve been out for nearly two nights,” Merle said quietly. “I ended up eating your dinner last night, but if you feel up to it, I still haven’t touched what they brought you.”</p><p>“Who brought me dinner?”</p><p>“Everyone. Everyone was here bringing you food and water. Kio and Ort even prayed for your health. Millerna, too. They said praying is a custom in their homelands.”</p><p>Van was starving, but there was no way he’d be able to sit up to eat. “So everyone’s okay?”</p><p>“Yes. There were some injuries, but everyone made it out fine.”</p><p>Van’s shoulders untensed. “And how did the rest of the mission go?”</p><p>“I can fill you in on that.”</p><p>Allen stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and one on his hip.</p><p>“Are the villagers safe?” Van rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.</p><p>Allen frowned. “In all honesty, it didn’t turn out as well as we’d hoped.” He walked over to the side of the bed, and Van angled his head so he could look up at him. “We succeeded in driving the Black Dragon Clan out, but I was too late in giving the signal. The ship had made its retreat. I’m uncertain whether there were captives, but either way, we weren’t able to completely eradicate that faction of the Black Dragon Clan.”</p><p>“But the village is free?”</p><p>“We did liberate the village. Sadly, we can’t liberate every village on our own without going back to Torushina to expand our numbers. There were also far more casualties than we intended. I don’t think our ‘Jajuka’ will be pulling a similar stunt anytime soon.”</p><p>Van frowned. His head ached, and he clutched it.</p><p>“That must have really tired you out,” Allen said gently.</p><p>“What do you mean?” He remembered all the swordfighting and how he’d gotten his wounds. But why did his head hurt so much?</p><p>“Don’t you remember? You used your powers to kill the commander. It was impressive. I’ve never seen someone die so quickly.”</p><p>“Wasn’t trying to show off. He just needed to die, so I did what I had to.”</p><p>Allen giggled. Then he burst into laughter.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” Van barely covered his mouth for the huge yawn that overtook him.</p><p>“You are. I’m glad you still have your sense of humor after that.”</p><p>“I don’t get it.” The wound in his arm pinched again, and he gritted his teeth.</p><p>Allen folded his arms. “How are your wounds healing?”</p><p>When Van didn’t move, Allen tentatively stepped closer and pulled the covers back slowly. Van didn’t stop him, and when he touched his arm and shoulder to check his wounds, he didn’t push him away.</p><p>“Your bandages need changed,” Allen said. “May I?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>When he returned with fresh bandages and a washcloth, Merle darted off the barrel and into the corner, and he pulled the barrel up to Van’s bedside. Van stared at the cabin wall while Allen slowly unwrapped the bandages on his arm, exposing his wound to the stagnant cabin air. He hummed while he wiped the dried blood away, which distracted Van from the pain and made his eyelids flutter . When Allen leaned forward to unwrap the bandages on his shoulder, he had already closed his eyes.</p><p>“Maybe you need to get bedbound more often,” Allen said once he’d finished wrapping the bandages, and Van opened his heavy eyes. “It mellows you out a great deal.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask to get injured.”</p><p>“Of course not.” He smiled. “Hey, now we match.” He pulled back the shoulder of his jacket to show the fresh scar on his shoulder. “That’s a funny little coincidence, hm?”</p><p>“I don’t see how it’s ‘funny.’”</p><p>“Are you sure? I thought I saw the corners of your mouth twitch a little.”</p><p>“You really love hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”</p><p>Allen laughed. “You never cease to entertain me.” Then he frowned slightly. “Will you be all right?”</p><p>Van didn’t have the energy to snap at him again. But he didn’t feel like it anyway. Somehow, he felt he should hear the truth.</p><p>“My wounds aren’t bothering me, but I had a nightmare.”</p><p>“That’s what I thought.”</p><p>“Probably just side effects of my powers.”</p><p>Allen’s expression hardened. “Do you think I’m naive enough to believe that? I know what it’s like because I lived it, too. It’s been ten years and I still haven’t forgotten that day. That’s one thing you’ll never fool me on.”</p><p>Van didn’t feel the guilt weighing in his stomach like the last few times Allen had told him off. Somehow, he was beginning to get used to it.</p><p>“Anyway,” Allen said, his sternness easing, “you still need your rest, so I’d better leave you alone for a bit longer.”</p><p>“Whatever,” Van mumbled.</p><p>“We all miss you around the dinner table.”</p><p>Van managed an “mm” to show that he’d heard him. Allen started toward the doorway.</p><p>“Wait,” Van called.</p><p>Allen paused, looking over his shoulder. “What is it?”</p><p>“I’m…” Van paused. Then, against his better judgment, he finished his thought: “…glad we’re all okay.”</p><p>“Oh, Van—” He smiled widely, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yes. <em>We’ll </em>all be just fine.”</p><p>As he drifted in and out of consciousness, the last thing he heard Allen say was, “Thank you for saving me, Van. I’m glad you’re with us.”</p><p>—</p><p>A week passed. Van regained his strength, and his wounds healed. He threw himself back into training against Allen, Gaddes, and Millerna, and joined the hunt every night. Since the mission at the village, he felt more in control of his powers than ever. His head felt calmer, yet anger still coursed through his veins knowing the Black Dragon Clan was out there and Folken was still leveling villages and countries, leaving innocents without a place to call home. Whittling was the best distraction.</p><p>They returned to Torushina to fortify the caravan and pick up a dozen new recruits, and they got their next tip when they noticed a giant black airship flying in the distance. Van’s head hurt just looking at it. He also got a weird sense that something was up there, making his skin tingle. Had the Black Dragon Clan found Escaflowne? There was only one way to find out. But before they reached the airship, he had one more thing to take care of.</p><p>Unfortunately, Allen had the worst timing.</p><p>“What are you working on? I wasn’t aware you were an artist,” he said, leaning back against the stables, arms folded, that usual pathetic fake smirk on his lips.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” Van said. “Besides, if you don’t keep bothering me, I could tear up the floorboards so you’ll have nothing to stand on.”</p><p>“I see you’re back to your usual friendly self. Tell me, Van, is whatever’s in your hands for me? Or someone else?”</p><p>“Enough already! If you want it before it’s finished, then take it and just leave me alone.”</p><p>Setting the knife down, he extended his hands, unfolding them and showing the wooden discs in his palms.</p><p>Allen raised his eyebrows, his mouth opening slightly. “Are these…?”</p><p>“Tokens. For betting. Whoever Dryden is, I’m sure he’s sick of you wasting his money on your games.”</p><p>Van looked up from his hands. Allen’s open mouth closed, and he smirked.</p><p>“I’m sure he’ll thank you for this. Do you plan on making more?”</p><p>“However many you want or need.”</p><p>Allen held out his palms and Van brought his hands together, then opened them at the bottom, letting the tokens fall into Allen’s hands. He folded his hands over them, winked, and stuffed them in his coin purse.</p><p>“There’s just one thing you didn’t know,” he said. “Dryden loves gambling, himself. He wouldn’t if he didn’t have that massive fortune to squander. So, it’s true we probably don’t need these. But I enjoy having them just the same. Thank you.</p><p>“However…” He smiled, a wide, genuine smile. “I can’t say the same about you. We do need you here. So, tell me, Van. I’ve seen you looking skyward like you think something’s up there. Is there something up in that ship we should go after?”</p><p>“Let’s head up to the helm,” Van said, standing up from the crate. “I’ll tell you up there.”</p><p>“Very well,” Allen said, his smile replaced with a stern expression.</p><p>As they walked out of the stables, Merle called for Van. He caught her eye, and he smiled, requisite in the knowledge that he had finally been accepted. He had found a family to protect, and a family who would fight for him. Together with the Abaharaki, and when the Wing Goddess finally made her appearance, he would be unstoppable. He would be the one to awaken Escaflowne and stop Folken. He was sure of it, as sure as he was that he would no longer walk alone.</p>
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